Who Stole My Coffee??

I didn't think I was really addicted to coffee. Sure, my intake went from once a week to once a day, increased from one cup at a time to two, but really - that's not so much, right? I don't stop at Starbucks to buy $4 coffees (no matter how deliciously delightful), I don't *need* coffee to get up each morning... Yeah. That was until somebody stole my coffee.

I recently took a trip with my husband to Hocking Hills, and of course, I brought along a can of my favorite instant latte. That's right. I love instant coffee. :P Things were fine and dandy until we got back from vacation, and there was no coffee to be found. I couldn't believe I could possibly leave behind my precious tin of coffee. That would be akin to leaving one of my dogs behind. I searched everywhere - I rummaged through bags, the dirty clothes, places I had searched five minutes prior. It didn't matter. It was gone. I was coffee-less and miserable.

"Okay," I thought. "It'll be okay. I don't need coffee anyway. A few days without it until I can get to the grocery won't kill me."

Uh huh.

Day one wasn't so bad. I had a teensy bit left in the house, and I enjoyed it mightily with my breakfast muffin.

Day two, about mid-morning I developed a headache. As the day progressed, my eyes became squinty. Various objects started to resemble my missing container of coffee. I began to blame my corgi for stealing and hiding it. He, in turn, began chuckling behind my back, and looking entirely innocent and non-talking-dog-like whenever I turned back around. It had to stop.

I finally managed to drag myself in a zombie-ish coma to my car to take another of my dogs to class, and as I smashed the car into the wall of Tim Horton's, I stumbled from it moaning, "Coffee, coffee... corgi stole my coffee...." Luckily, the employees of Tim Horton's are professionals that recognize the symptoms of coffee withdrawal, and provided a cafe mocha stat! Relief, sweet relief. I was able to dislodge my car from their building and continue, refreshed, to dog class.

The next day, I had to suffer through another morning without coffee - but as I had an appointment in town, I knew I could stop at the store and replenish my supply. At the store, I grabbed every flavor I could reach, threw them into my cart, snickering madly at my good fortune, and checked out with the speed of a NASCAR driver. The drive home was equally as quick, though fortunately minus the wrecks and destruction. I cackled to myself as I set each tin tenderly in my cupboard, glancing and smirking at the corgi, whose short little nubs couldn't possibly reach my new supply of sweet, delicious coffee. He merely sat there, head tilted, pondering. No doubt mocking me in his little corgi mind.

As I reached for sweat pants to put on for the rest of this now glorious Friday, I spied something shiny in one of my bags on the floor in my bedroom. It was the missing tin of coffee. I sat down and laughed until I cried. And the corgi came over, grinning mischievously, and sat in my lap, demanding that I rub his ears.