Well, I'm very happily imbibing my morning latte, and will likely enjoy one this afternoon.
I still take a couple of hours to accept my need. From six to eight am, I wander blearily in a fog, moping, crusty-eyed, unable to manage a coherent thought. I know the solution is always right there on my kitchen counter.
Why do I make myself wait? lt would be different if I was trying to quit caffeine. But that's not the case; I've decided that one or two drinks a day are fine.
It's not about caffeine, however; it's about having an excuse. An excuse to wander, to mope, to not think. An excuse to not get started on the day. An excuse to think there's something wrong with me.
It's just a buffer.
Time to turn the old adage around; it's always 8am somewhere!
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