I couldn’t stop thinking about coffee this morning. It’s been gray and cold for more than a week, and a nice hot cup of caffeine seemed like a pretty necessary step in getting me to work. I couldn’t stop thinking about a particularly delicious, steamy, cinnamony cup I’d enjoyed the day before. I needed that, and I needed it now!
I could just “borrow” a few beans from my housemates’ hoard. No. That’s not nice. I know, I could stop by a gas station on the way to work and stash the cup in my saddlebag. No. That’s both gross and likely to spill. Could I detour past a coffee shop? Could I make Folgers in the teachers’ lounge?
Fortunately, my morning commute has become routine enough that I no longer have much of an internal debate about whether I’m going to do it or not every morning. I just get on my bike and go.
So that’s what I did this morning, albeit coffeeless and sorrowful. I promised myself that if I got to work on time, I could either make myself some or stop and get some somewhere.
Thirty sweaty minutes later, I coasted down the final hill towards campus. A gas station, offering all the coffee I could ever want, was just a few pedals to my right. It was only 7:51. I had time.
But I just rolled on towards school. Funny – now that I could have it, I didn’t need it. After riding straight into the sunrise, with a cool, stiff breeze blowing over my face and down my collar, I felt pretty darn awake. My heart was pounding, my mind was alert, I was brimming with ideas and enthusiasm for the day. The equivalent of a shot of espresso at least.
by Sadie Kneidel