the thing about coffee and instagram.

people are always writing emotional blog posts about how instagram makes them compare their lives to other's lives and their bookshelf from walmart to someone else's thrift store bookshelf made of crates and unicorns. the posts usually end with some sort of resolve to stop this madness and to just be content with what they have, and then maybe they throw in a cute quote about being content that has a tinge of condemnation mixed in. i've maybe felt this way about about instagram a time or two, but mostly the thing about instagram or the internet or maybe even college is that makes me want to drink coffee more than it makes me jealous of people and their stuff.

i've been professing my hatred for coffee and anything else that tastes like the ground for awhile now, but i've let up on some of those ill feelings recently, and i embarked on a journey to learn to love coffee. maybe this has something to do with working at a coffee shop, but we'll never trace the root of my motivation for sure. i've had this irrational view of social situations involving coffee floating around in my head and out of my mouth for some time now that generally involves me going to someone's house and them proceeding to offer me coffee. then i, because of the absolute disdain i have for the stuff, have to turn them down. immediately after this i drown in a lethal cup of guilt, embarrassment, and shame because of the ways i've surely offended this host. and to make matters worse, i probably have absolutely nothing to drink now because they probably only have fruity tea as an alternative to coffee, and i don't like fruity teas anymore than i like coffee, so surely i'm going to die from thirst. now at this point you're probably concerned for my mental health more than you care if i like coffee or not, but i assure you that i'm just fine, and admitting i have a problem is the first step.

learning to make latte art at barista training.

so this absolutely irrational situation paired with instagram's glamourous depiction of beautiful mugs, tasty scones, and bright rays of sunshine led me to drink coffee. mostly accompanied by copious amounts of cream and sugar. and i have to be honest and tell you i've grown to like it. it only has small hints of tasting like dirt, and as long as i keep throwing some french vanilla creamer into my latte, i can see myself on the path to addiction and success.

what instagram didn't mention, however, is how much my stomach would absolutely hate me for drinking coffee. it hates me so much that it's started to write me hate mail and post mean things about me on the internet. i've come to terms with the amount of craziness i have rattling around in my head, but compared to the insane people drinking coffee, thinking their $5 carmel macchiato is worth the crippling stomach pain they'll feel for the rest of their life or at least the rest of their day, i am the most normal person on the planet.

and so my coffee journey abruptly comes to an end. i guess, in a way, i achieved my goal in learning to like the taste of java, but i also became an enemy to my own body, and it is just not worth it. i'm waving the white flag of surrender, and i'm going to ask my faithful friend, the vanilla chai, for forgiveness. it will be humbling to say the least, but my chai has never let me down before.

so long, coffee. it's been real.
ko.