Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

I'm sort of embarrassed to think how many times I have answered the question, "What's wrong?" with, "I need coffee." Sometimes people get this pained look and say, "Hey, is everything all right?" and I answer, "I just need coffee." Within my close circle, it's become quite known. "Come on over; I'll throw on a pot for you." Even my kids have got my number. When my kiddo was two and a half, she called me out in the van one day: "Mommy, you grumpy. You need coffee?"

Sadly, coffee has become a condition of my personality.

So, here I stand at the doorway to Pick Five. I'm holding rice and almonds and I've tucked water and pepper into my pocket. But do I NEED coffee? There's a voice, right now as I'm typing, that is screaming in my head, "YES! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YES! YES! A THOUSAND TIMES YES!" But I know that there are nutritious things that I need, that I shouldn't sacrifice, for this addiction I have. But... it's coffee... I know I could ween -- I'd need to start soon -- but I just. like. coffee. so. much.

And I think that is exactly that why I can't take it with me on my 40-day journey.

So sorry, old friend. I'll see you on the other side.