We all have our own favourite pick me up and I’m a big fan of one of the most popular in the world – coffee. The first thing İ do when I get to the office is turn on the kettle, open the jar of Nescafe and inhale that earthy aroma. I start the day with a mug of strong instant coffee and a cigarette, of course the second thing İ have to do subsequently is go to the loo! Coffee is not for idlers, it inspires you to do, if I have enough its electrifying effect reverses the sleep deprivation I still suffer from (courtesy of Peri) and allows me to cast myself fearlessly into the electronic portals of my inbox and deal with the mail. 

İ didn’t drink coffee till İ was seventeen when school had a machine installed right next to  the sixth form study room. It was the start of a caffeine based love affair. As a student preparing for my final exams at Uni İ drank way too much but the resulting insomnia was useful in the short term. On wild holidays in Cyprus the only way to get through the day after being out till 7am was to have turkish coffee in mugs rather than little cups but the buzz and racing heart were not altogther pleasant, it was a bit like being an epilectic jazz drummer on speed. There have been times when too much strong coffee has given me the shakes and made me feel that my heart was about to crash out of my chest and hop accross the floor at fifty beats per second. When coffee shops first started to proliferate in the UK I hadn’t quite got the measure of the type of coffee they served and would order three espressos because they were so tiny and then wonder why İ had stomach ache and trembling hands. 

Turkish coffee and I have had a chequered relationship. I loved to drink the little gritty sticky cups of coffee but for years I refused to learn how to make it because traditionally when a prospective husband comes to visit you at home your parents send you off to make coffee. The idea is to show your wifely skills and ergo İ thought if İ can’t do the coffee İ will fail the hospitality test and remain free and single. This carried on till I was about twenty three until my uncle Erdoğan whose stables I spent a year at in Girne got fed up with making my coffee, marched me into the kitchen and stuck a little steel cezve (small, long-handled pot for making Turkish coffee) in my palm and then stood over me glowering until I turned out my first proper coffee. To be honest though İ still avoid making it as instant is so much less work and washing up. 

I like most of all to have my coffee served to me in a cafe, to hear the evocative sound of an espresso machine driving steam through freshly ground coffee and the exciting whoosh and plop-plop-plop of full fat milk being frothed into a creamy lather. İ like the ritual of stirring my coffee with one of those sugar sticks with the crystals of raw brown sugar encrusted on it and I like crunching up what doesn’t melt into my cup. I only stir three times so that some of the sugar stays at the bottom and the last mouthfuls are tantalisingly sweet. İ like the slightly suggestive İtalian names, Macchiato, Lappucino, Ristretto...they all sound like holiday romances you wish you’d had. There’s something to be said about a simple hot drink that makes an almost instant feeling of strength return to your fatigued body. İ have to admit to viewing tea drinkers with some condescension, they are the loafers of the beverage world, coming only just after Horlicks drinkers and I scorn their floral china cups and effete manners. 

Sadly though I’ve been betrayed, despite having loved coffee for so long and so much my heart doesn’t race anymore. Dear coffee, my true love, what have you done to yourself? You’ve let yourself go, I can’t even feel the caffeine anymore. I haven’t had the buzz-love in ages. İ can drink three mugs in the morning and sometimes still feel like going back to bed. Where is my rush of caffeine pleasure? Where is my jolty, shaky goodness? I can drink you at night and still fall right to sleep. I miss you, Coffee. I miss your caffeine zip. No, I did not purchase your brother, Decaf Coffee, by mistake. I double-checked to make sure. Why have you forsaken me? İf you don't do something to juice up the caffeine bite really soon, my flirtation with Red Bull is going to become a full-fledged affair. 
 
Wanting us to be the way we were, 
Faz 

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Courtesy of  www.ahajokes.com

You know you are addicted to coffee if ......... 

17. You can jump start your car without cables. 
 
16. You answer the door before people knock. 
 
15. You get a speeding ticket even when you are parked. 
 
14. You've worn out your third pair of shoes this week. 
 
13. Your eyes stay open even when you sneeze. 
 
12. You grind coffee beans in your mouth. 
 
11. You can type sixty words per minute -- with your feet. 
 
10. You soak your dentures in coffee overnight. 
 
9. You sleep with your eyes open. 
 
8. You have a picture of your coffee mug on your coffee mug. 
 
7. Instant coffee takes too long to make. 
 
6. You channel surf faster without the remote. 
 
5. You don't sweat... you percolate. 
 
4. You've built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers. 
 
3. You short out motion detectors. 
 
2. You walk twenty miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in. 
 
and last but not least... 
 
1. The only time you are standing still is during an earthquake!