Confessions: I've Actually Never Had Coffee.

I'm starting a new series, Confessions.

I figured I might as well start with the most shocking.

So yeah, I've never actually had coffee before.

And these are some of the looks I get when I say that:

Actually, that's probably all the reactions I've gotten.

Yeah. . .

I just . . . never really wanted to have coffee.

I love the smell of coffee beans, but not when it's actually brewed.

And I don't need it in the mornings, because once I'm up, I'm up.

So you wake me up at 3 AM and you had better have something really cool for me to do or I will hate intensely dislike you for a very long time, probably proportional to how many hours of sleep you robbed me of.

Anyhoo, yeah, I've never had coffee.

And I don't plan to, either.

And the reason why is because when I was a kid, I had to read this book, Across Five Aprils. 

It's about the Civil War, but there's only one part I really remember: the kid's mom loved coffee, but for one reason or another, they couldn't buy it, and she went through this awful withdraw and could not function, and I remember thinking I never wanted to be that dependent on something that I wouldn't be able to function if I couldn't have it.

Which rules out a lot of things for me.

Oh well.

And I remember a lot of my friends saying they never drank coffee till they got to college, but I'm almost a senior, and I still haven't had a drop.

I mean, I suppose it's kind of like tea: I just haven't found a flavor I might like.

Whatevs.

What coffee confessions do you have?

A Duck Day

I know it's unusual for me to do two posts in one day, but it's my blog and

.

So.

I feel like this has been my motto today:

.

"Why?" you ask?

Okay, you didn't ask, but I'm anticipating your asking.

Because I just knew it was going to rain today.

And I wore flats.

My feet were SOAKED within an hour.

My jeans were SOAKED six inches on the bottom.

I made sure my umbrella was in the car when I left the house . . . and then forgot it in the car at school.

I ended up sloshing through grass and unavoidable puddles.

Ugh.

I love beaches.

And pools.

And water in general.

But not rain.

Not while I'm not inside.

Because I do care.

And I'm not a duck.

But renaming this "The Daft Duck" might get the point across.

I won't; I rather like this name.

But still. . .

Oh my word . . .

Sometimes that's all you can say.

Sometimes that's all you need to say. 

Like when your exhaust pipe falls off twice in one day, once when you're pulling out of the driveway to go to class and once in the Chick-fil-a drive through.

Like when your professor doesn't email the class that your 8 AM slow, painful death Crossfit aerobics class is cancelled and you could have slept in another hour.

Like when you have all these great ideas for stories but can't write them because you've just painted your nails and they aren't dry yet and then you forget them.

Yeah. . . 

Oh my word. . .
Good thing Somebody knows what's going on, right?

You know that feeling?

That feeling when you've accomplished this great and awesome feat?

That feeling when you know the worst is behind you?

That feeling that you look forward to during the hard times?

That feeling that's euphoric?

That feeling when you finish a four page paper on the Odyssey?

Yeah, me too. 

And yes, I am perfectly aware that this is a TON of gifs, but it's nearly 1 AM, and if you'd spent an entire day on this paper, you'd be using all these gifs too.