My addiction

People have told me I drink too much.  Truth is, I don't drink enough.  Two to three alcoholic beverages a week is about average for me, depending on the kind of week I've had or if there is a party going on.  If there's a party double that number.  If I run out of booze (that never happens) I don't crawl around shaking, sniffing rubbing alcohol, or go begging for money for my next bottle.  I just make a wish for more beer when that happens, and then I drink some chamomile tea. 
Want to know what I'm addicted to?  COFFEE!  Like I'm so addicted to coffee I would lose my mind if coffee went away tomorrow.  I would beg, steal, and maybe even sell my children for one little sweet cup of that amazing bitter devil juice.  Here's a story about my coffee addiction.  This is also probably in the top five angriest moments of my life.  A bear almost lost his life over this.

A few years ago we only had one vehicle.  We lived in a very small town but there was a store and gas station, kind of in walking distance.  Me and the little walked there a few times a week to pick up extra things we needed, or just to get out of the house. 
One dreadful morning I woke up and went straight to the coffee pot, like I do every single day.  I opened up the coffee container and to my horror, there was only about two teaspoons of coffee in there.  WHAT THE F*CK!!!  I called up Mr. Sexy Bear and ripped him a new one.  He was the last person to make coffee.  Why didn't he tell me that there was no more?  Why, why, why???!!!!  I'm losing my mind and shuddering just thinking about it. 
Ok not a problem, I'll walk my tired ass to the gas station.  The coffee there sucks, but it will at least hold me over until my husband gets home with more coffee.  Go outside to check the temperature.  F*ck me!  It's cold outside.  Did I mention it's winter?  I have a baby in the house.  Ok not a baby, baby.  He was probably around two, but still.  Do I make him suffer and freeze his baby ass off for my addictions?  No that's not right.  I can do this. 
I make a cup of tea.  It's not the same!  It's not even close.  I drink the tea while still steaming mad over the fact that my husband forgot to tell me there was barely any coffee.  He decides now would be a good time to call me.  He's very apologetic over this whole horrible situation he's put me in.  I tell him not to freaking call me until he is on his way home with coffee in hand, and even then I won't be speaking to him.  Just let me know he's got the stuff. 
Now I'm pacing the house.  I need coffee.  I will settle for a teeny tiny little cup.  Just need to a few gulps of the nectar of the gods.  Just two or three gulps.  That's all I'm asking for.  Enough to get me through the next few hours. 
Go back outside to check the temperature.  F*ck!!!  It's still winter, and I still have a baby here.  Everyone I know that loves me enough to bring me coffee is either working or dead.  F*ckers!
Ok Panda baby.  We can do this!  That's me talking to myself.  Another cup of tea.  Tea still sucks.  Hubs calls AGAIN to let me know how sorry he is for not telling me we are out of coffee.  "SERIOUSLY LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!  I WILL KILL YOU!  I'M SERIOUSLY MORE PISSED OFF AT YOU RIGHT NOW THAN I HAVE EVER BEEN!  IF YOU WERE IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT NOW I THINK I WOULD HIT YOU!"  That ended that conversation.  He decided it was best to leave me alone until he brought the stuff home.
Ding!  Idea brewing, like the coffee that's not!  I remembered I had a few little teaspoons of coffee.  I would boil some water and run it through a filter in a mug.  Hopefully that would be enough for me to get a semi strong (I like my coffee to put hair on my chest) cup of coffee. 
As I stood there pouring boiling water over and over into that few tablespoons of coffee that moments ago I had considered snorting, it hit me.  I'm addicted.  I'm highly addicted to coffee.  I've paced the house, and neglected my child all day, because I was out of coffee.  Here I stand with my caffeine headache, and slight shakes, holding that filter with the tiniest bit of coffee grounds like it is a newborn baby.  I'm pouring that water ever so gently so I don't lose one little drop of that coffee.  If I had spilled it I would have sucked it right off the counter top.  I drank that little cup of coffee in about one minute.  It was like a little cup of weak Heaven. 
Mr. Sexy Bear came home with new container of coffee, and I snatched that shit right out of his hands without saying a word.  He didn't say a word either.  He knew that it was best to leave me and my coffee alone.  After I finished humping it, I brewed the strongest pot of coffee I've ever had in my life, sat my addicted ass in the kitchen, and whispered sweet words only coffee understands.  I got that night off of mommy/wife duties, and I just drank coffee like I've never drank coffee before.  I think I had a coffee orgasm. 

After that experience I thought it was best that me and coffee not see so much of each other.  I could no longer drink my pot a day, because I couldn't survive without it.  Now I only have two cups a day, and I've switched over to tea in the late afternoon and evenings.  I never want to experience that again.  Even now the memory of it haunts me.  I still reach for my coffee the second I wake up, and don't function without that first cup, but now I only allow myself two cups a day.  One in the morning to do the breakfast/cleaning thing, and one in the early afternoon for a little pick me up. 
So yes I have a drinking problem.  I'm Panda, and I'm a coffeeholic.  I can say that for sure now.  I've been to dark places, and I've done many things for coffee that I'm not proud of.  I hit rock bottom and I did something about it.  Now you try and touch my booze or chocolate, and I'll rip your arm off and beat you with it. 
Hubs has been forgiven, and he has never made that mistake again.  I love you dear husband!  Now I can laugh about the time I almost killed you for a cup of coffee.  Drink coffee!  It will help you type dumb stories like this one.  Have a great day!