Wednesday, March 20, 2013


Breakfast. This espresso maker. The creaminess of the coffee it produces.

Addiction interests me. I spent years working for and physically beside an addict (opioid painkillers) who was perpetually running after the wagon from which he had dropped. That was a crash course in what drug dependence can do, and what it looks like. I have had other brushes with the affliction, in close relationships and friendships, and know that is has far less to do with willpower than it does DNA and environment. I keep a sharp eye out for it in myself, but am relatively free of the most damaging of urges. But this coffee. That's a weak spot. I feel quite miserable if I can't have a good cup of coffee in the morning. I loathe drip coffee, no matter how good the beans (or how good Coop made it look and sound in Twin Peaks - there's another addiction). And it makes me jittery, where espresso does not. When we go camping, a stovetop espresso maker goes camping, too.

Because one needs to be a happy camper.


What? You don't play with toys when you have breakfast?

That bunny needs a cab!

So...what are your guilty little secrets? Big or small. Wack me upside the head.
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