THE BLOG

Sober and Reporting for Duty

07/24/2014 01:01 pm 13:01:34 | Updated Sep 23, 2014
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My work life has been an imposter.

It's all been based on a lie.

Let me explain, but first are you sitting down? Savoring your first or second cup of real coffee?

It's addictive, isn't it? You need it. Gives you that antsy rush, your sweet little caffeine addiction that you love and cherish and is named in your will.

But what if someone told you the coffee you've been drinking for years has been decaf?

Your life, your mood, your decisions have all been a ruse. Your stained teeth and obsessive coffee ritual and mood swings have been for naught.

Still enjoying your coffee?

Still think it's caffeinated?

You better check, dear ones.

I've reportedly been drinking decaffeinated coffee at work. I say "reportedly" because that's the word journalists use to hedge their reporting in the face of unbelievably horrific news.

A colleague innocently pointed out to me that the drum of coffee I've been shoveling from is neutered coffee. I received the news with the level of excitement and anticipation I felt when non-alcoholic beers were introduced. A part of my soul died.

I slowly put down my favorite coffee cup (there goes the favorite coffee cup concept) and walked slowly toward my office. Then, just as slowly, things began to make sense.

I had begun drinking more and more coffee throughout the day, losing track of how many times I filled her up. But no matter how much I consumed, I never achieved that jittery rush that could make me short-tempered with co-workers and co-loved ones until my buzz burst reducing me to a fetal position under my desk. God, I missed that feeling.

More delicately, my coffee runs also led to many daily pit-stops. I worked in fear my colleagues thought I had a bladder glitch or merely was acting my age. All that private work was for naught, too.

Day in and day out, I was just downing and drowning in one placebo after another.

Now I question all my addictions.

Is my "occasional" glass of Pinot Noir really a bootleg strain of Welch's grape juice?

Is my "Apollo 13" movie obsession based on a false premise that man really stepped foot on the moon?

Is my Charlize Theron really dating Sean Penn -- he of a perfect bladder?

I don't know what is real anymore. My chemical compass has been disconnected. I find myself walking by the old coffee station, peering at the canister of decaf as it mocks me.

Maturity requires I accept this with grace and accept this as a sign I didn't need coffee in the first place. That's Maturity talking but after a couple of cups of real coffee.

I dare Maturity to go a day or a week or a month without real coffee at work. Let's see how mature Maturity is then.

See we just need for a few small things to go right in life because the larger things, if left to their own compass, can go wrong and break our hearts. And when this happens, you need a little comfort, a little something to go right.

You need real coffee.