Oh, I could never forget the day I discovered that sick me absolutely detests coffee.
I was in the process of rounding up my Saturday morning cleaning when I started to feel dizzy and weak. I thought it was probably due to me stressing myself with the cleanup.
I decided to lay my head on my pillow for a while—you know, get some rest and see if my condition would get any better. Unfortunately, it got progressively worse. My temperature was on the roof, and every part of my body ached badly.
I was incapable of lifting my head up without developing a nasty headache. That was when I knew my condition was serious. During this period, though, I told my roommate and friend to boil some water for me so I could take my daily morning coffee.
"Ifunanya, you still want to drink coffee in this state? I don’t think you have any business taking coffee right now.” She said.
“Coffee will make me feel better; trust me,” I said, secretly wanting it only because I was craving it.
She reluctantly got my water ready and helped me make my coffee, just the way I liked it—with a spoon of milk and no sugar.
As she poured in the coffee and stirred, the aroma instantly invaded my nostrils, and my stomach growled a bit, reminding me that I’d skipped breakfast without realizing it.
I grabbed the mug of coffee from her hands and thanked her. Then I brought it up to my lips and took my first sip.
Immediately after the dark liquid hit my tongue, I felt a strong urge to vomit. My once delicious coffee now tasted like melted rubber, with a vile taste.
I gagged and spat it out. I would have thrown up had I eaten anything prior. I looked over to my roommate, who had helped me make it; she gave me the most bombastic side eye known to man.
“Don’t look at me; I told you not to take it,” she accused.
I whined in disagreement and dropped the cup of coffee on the table. I then lay back down and thought about why my beloved coffee had chosen to betray me at a time when I needed it the most. All of a sudden, I didn’t want to be sick anymore.
For the remainder of the sickness, I resorted to drinking tea and hot chocolate. But none could quite fill the void left by coffee. It’s safe to say I was miserable throughout the next week of sickness.
I missed starting my mornings off with coffee. Teas weren’t cutting it.
Moving forward, I got better, and I was finally able to reunite with my one reason for being happy in the mornings. The very first sips I took were divine and much needed. This brief separation taught me to cherish coffee even more and to try not to fall sick ever again.
A world without coffee is indeed a world without life!
Thanks for Reading🤗❤️
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