## I haven't slept in eleven days. Not because of insomnia, mind you, but because my brain, fueled by nothing stronger than lukewarm despair, refuses to shut down. You see, the world, in its infinite capacity for absurdity, has plunged headfirst into the GCC_Global Coffee Crisis. Coffee, that sacred elixir of life, that liquid poem of productivity, is gone. And Houston, bless its sun-baked soul, is no exception.
Yesterday, I saw a man barter his prized Hemingway collection for a single, sad cup of Folgers. Today, rumors swirl of baristas holding underground auctions for single-origin beans, their pronouncements like pronouncements from oracles, dictating the fate of bleary-eyed addicts like myself.
My own descent into caffeine-less madness has been swift and spectacular. My fingers, once nimble on the keyboard, now trip over each other like toddlers on roller skates. My wit, once sharper than a freshly brewed Kenyan AA, has dulled to the point where I think I just told my neighbor's chihuahua it was a "good boy."
The streets are a cacophony of desperation. Gone are the polite nods and forced grins of morning commutes. Now, it's a symphony of snarls and caffeine-withdrawal-induced migraines. I swear, I saw a squirrel gnawing on a used Starbucks filter this morning.
But even in this bleak landscape, there's a strange beauty. In the shared misery, a camaraderie has bloomed. We, the coffee-less masses, huddle together like shipwreck survivors, swapping stories of pre-crisis lattes and strategizing black-market espresso raids. We share stale cookies dipped in lukewarm tea, offering each other words of encouragement that taste suspiciously like instant decaf.
And maybe, just maybe, that's the point. Maybe this crisis, this forced cold turkey, is shaking us out of our latte-fueled stupor. Maybe it's reminding us that connection, creativity, and even humor can survive without the artificial buzz. Maybe, just maybe, when the first real cup finally hits our parched lips, it will taste all the sweeter.
So, world, raise your empty mugs to the GCC_Global Coffee Crisis. May it be swift, may it be brutal, and may it, somehow, remind us what it means to be human, even when we're running on fumes. And to my fellow coffee-deprived brethren, stay strong. The only way out is caffeine-in, and who knows, maybe, just maybe, a little shared suffering can brew something pretty damn beautiful.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a lukewarm Earl Grey and a very persuasive squirrel with a used Starbucks filter. Wish me luck.
Source: bard.google.com
Comments
Post a Comment