I’ve talked about the Keurig, I’ve talked about drinks and beverages, but I’ve never specifically talked about my fascination with coffee. When it comes to my favorite drink, coffee meets the criteria. I love drinking coffee regardless of what flavor it is, although I sometimes have a favorite flavor splash when I go to Dunkin for coffee. Hazelnut! Toasted almond! Caramel! No matter the type, I’m game. We don’t have flavor splashes at home, aside from the occasional sugar-free option. I don’t think we’ve had that in awhile, though. At least, it feels that way. I just love spending time with coffee.
But let’s talk about the beginnings of coffee in my life. It started in college, late in life, like most things. When I was in college, a friend of mine who I don’t really talk to any more introduced me to coffee. Prior to this moment, I had tried coffee in my mom’s cup once or twice and hated it. I hated how it dehydrated my mouth immediately upon my tongue touching it, I hated the icky, dry, tasteless feeling of iced coffee. But that changed when I tried hot coffee by myself, for the first time. My friend brought me to the cafeteria between grad school classes and we brewed a very simple, easy-to-make hot coffee from the machine. She taught me how to stir milk, the appropriate amount of milk in coffee, and how to sip coffee when it’s especially hot. Since that moment, I always stopped for coffee at the cafeteria station and filled up as high as it could go.
Some things don’t change from time to time, but other things grow and develop with you, changing like the weather. I like to think that the change I’ve experienced in my life, such as learning to enjoy coffee, is a sign that, with age, life changes just as much as it did when I was young.