Speaking of coffee

Look, I really like coffee. My minimum is two sizeable coffee beverages per day. Three if I'm lucky. Many would argue that I'm addicted to coffee. Some might say that it's not the coffee, it's the caffeine.

I love coffee. I love that I love it. I love the tradition of it, like going every single morning with my coworker and friend B. I love that the people at our local coffee establishments know me. I love them. And, I imagine, they me. I love black coffee after dinner. I love sweet coffee first thing in the morning. I love espresso. I love drip. I love the idea of coffee.

So, am I addicted? Perhaps. But I prefer to think that I am addicted to happiness. To tradition. To aesthetic. To life.

I am addicted to love.