Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Adenosine Blockage Bliss

Well, it's happened. I've become one of those people I used to look at with with a blend of pity and superiority, biting my lip in an "Oooh you poor, pitiful thing" manner while inwardly counting my blessings that I wasn't in their boat.

No, I'm not talking about about people with neck acne ("neckne," as I like to call it), or people who drive PT Cruisers.

I'm talking about the people I would see every morning with a death-grip around their coffee mugs, clutching it with white knuckles and the faintest hint of a snarl, as if the world or--
gasp--"The MAN" were out to pry it from their sleep-deprived fingers.

Caffeine junkies. Caf-heads. I am one of them now, and I'm afraid my dear Dr. D is only enabling.

It started, as these things so often do, with my gateway poison: Diet Coke. Truthfully, I wasn't even out for the caffeine fix; it was much more recreational than that--I just liked the way it tasted with pizza. And then I really liked the way it tasted with sandwiches... and then with salads... and pretzels... and then with my morning bagel. Uh oh, we might have a problem. Nahhhh, what's a few Diet Cokes a day among friends? There's not
that much caffeine in them. I could totally quit cold-turkey at any time. I mean it's not like I'm a coffee drinker, right?

Right. Essentially. Well... I mean I wasn't. Not until my coffee-drinking, med student of a husband brought this into our home:

THAT, my friends, is an Aerolatte milk frother. THAT is a contributing factor to the reality that I am now so dependent on caffeine that I get headaches if I somehow manage to avoid it during my day. I must have caffeine--that magical, adenosine-blocking chemical (so Dr. D tells me)--or my head starts pounding and I begin grunting like a caveman. Dag

This little hand-held whirlygig makes the most delightful lattes--a heavenly cloud of frothy goodness atop a perfectly sweetened, deliciously caffeinated pool of liquid warmth.* I love it. It's horrible.

You should get one... or save me from myself. I think I'd be happy with either outcome.

*Nope, I'm not sponsored by them or anything... I'm just that smitten.


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