Goodbye Joe

I took some time off work last week and I got a lot of things accomplished; the hardest one was breaking off my long-time relationship with Joe. We go way back; I have been meeting with Joe at least once a day for as long as I can remember. I tried breaking it off once before, I even managed to stay away for several years, but one chance meeting and I was hooked again.

I had known for a while I had to break it off, but one after one late night meeting, I woke up gasping for breath and knew it was time to call it quits for good. It was tragic–Joe makes me feel awake and full of energy, at times Joe even makes my heart race.

Yes, I am addicted to my daily cup of Joe. I grew up in a house where my mom was always making coffee so it was no surprise I was already drinking it by the time I was in high school. When I started getting migraine headaches, I gave up everything else and kept my fingers crossed that coffee was not a trigger. Of course, it was, and I had to give it up.

I stayed away from coffee for years until one Thanksgiving when my friends were all drinking coffee with Baileys in it. It smelled so good, I figured I had not had a migraine in a long time so I risked a cup. No headache followed, so the next day I had another cup (this time without the Baileys!), and once again; no headache. Before I knew it I was sucked back into a daily meeting with Joe.

Coffee is a big part of my everyday life; I make a pot as soon as I arrive at work, I bring a coffee butler to the I run at the , I meet my friends for coffee. When I write for Patch, I usually take my laptop to Starbucks and get myself a large coffee before I start.

A year ago I realized that the coffee was giving me terrible heartburn and when I was going through a ridiculous amount of Tums, with a heavy heart, I switched to decaf coffee. Recently though even the decaf coffee was irritating me, but I was in denial and just kept taking Pepcid/Zantac/Prilosec.

One fateful night though we went out for dinner and even though it was late, I had a cup of coffee to finish my meal. That night I woke up gasping for air as the acid was burning my throat. And that was after I had taken a Zantac. My poor husband had a panic attack as he thought I was having a heart attack. That was it; I knew I had to break it off for good.

So when you see me in Common Grounds or Starbucks, I will be sipping on tea and lamenting my lost love.