Tuesday, March 4, 2008

I say to myself, "Self, why are you awake again?"

I basically got the idea for this blog one day when I realized that I wanted to share with people one of my favorite parts of my day. Believe it or not, it’s when I first wake up. I have the great benefit of waking up most mornings to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Two of my roommates are habitual morning coffee drinkers. I’m not sure if they drink their coffee together or if they take turns getting up and brewing it—I’m usually still asleep while the whole production is going on. All I know is that somewhere between my alarm going off and hearing people and the dog move up and down the hall this subtle whiff of coffee enters my nose and then fills my whole room. I love it.

I’m very particular to smells. I know most people say they are. I feel as though I acquired my extra-sensitive nose from my mother, who will sometimes interrupt whatever my brother and I are telling her and say, “Ew, your little breath stinks, go take some medicine.” She’s serious about the medicine. She says that she knows when we’re getting sick because our breath starts to stink and then points us in the direction of the Benadryl or Robitussin, two very different medications that are used interchangeably at our house. I was sick for more than a week after taking the suggested Benadryl before I finally read the bottle and realized I had none of the symptoms listed that it could aid.

Now, I absolutely hate waking up to the smell of breakfast. Eggs, breakfasts meats, pancakes—as soon as I get a whiff of those I bury my head under the covers and stay there until I’m convinced that I have no more oxygen left and may soon pass out. Then I’m forced to breathe in the air outside my blankets, which at first is cold and crisp and about two seconds later makes me wish I would have just suffocated instead. I have never been a hot breakfast sort of person. I only began regularly eating breakfast a few years ago as an adult. My parents have always been Saturday morning breakfast people, so generally I woke up grumpy every Saturday morning. It wasn’t bad enough that I woke up to those greasy smells, but my father without fail always made the situation worse by opening the door and allowing even more of the stench to invade my room to ask if I wanted anything to eat. He still does this when I visit. I promise you I have never once answered him with “Yes, thanks for letting me know.”

As much as I love waking up to the smell of coffee I usually don’t wake up and make myself a cup. I have one of those coffee machines that has a timer and when I lived by myself I would sometimes fill it with water and coffee grinds and set it before I went to bed. It’s now the community coffee pot so I can’t really do that, not that I desire to drink coffee every morning. I would much rather its fragrance greet me each morning I wake up.

My dad bought me a trio of coffees from Angel Food Ministries as a Christmas gift. Each package has a bible verse and an angel on it, and I know that one of them is named “Holy Ground.” That one sort of tasted disgusting, but the one I’m drinking now with John 3:16 on it is amazing. I’m born again each time I brew it. On the mornings that I do chose to brew my 1 ½ cups of coffee I usually hope to have something delicious like this on hand. This leads me to the promo portion of my entry: My favorite coffee blends.

Illy Medium Roast (Best for French press)

Godiva Crème Brule
Angel Food Ministries Brazilian Amizade

HEB Texas Pecan (not the decaf, but that’s the pic I found)

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