Caffeinated

I have never met a people who consume as much coffee in one sitting as Americans do. Honestly, I don't think there is any place in the world where purchasing close to a half a liter of coffee at Starbucks does not raise any eyebrows, and where gas stations frequently offer coffee sizes referred to as "The Big Gulp". In fact, one of this year's April Fool's jokes was the supposed introduction of a Starbucks "plenta", a mug so large it could hold 128 fluid ounces, or a little over three liters. I can almost guarantee you that a joke like that would have never worked anywhere else, as most people would have never ever fallen for the idea of a 3-liter mug of coffee. I mean, in the Netherlands, a country apparently in love with its teeny tiny cups of Senseo coffee, that would be enough to keep most people's Senseo running for a full week. But here in the US, that's really not too far from reality, as evidenced by some of coworkers who carry at least a liter of coffee to work with them in a thermos so large it could be used to bathe my guinneapig.

On the other hand, I have also never met so many people who are super-sensitive to caffeine. These are obviously not the same Americans who keep "The big gulp" as the number one sellers at our local gas station, but there are lots and lots of them around, husband-dear being the prime example. Although he is the most awesome, loving, caring, and understanding man in the world, if he as much as smells caffeine after 3pm, he will not be able to go to sleep that night. And he is not alone. I can't tell you how many friends I have who can't have coffee because "it makes them jittery", or who have cut caffeine from their diet entirely because it messes with their sleep. And we're not talking about Italian espresso here, no, we're talking plain American coffee, which by most European standards is little more than colored water with a whiff of coffee.

Needless to say, I do not fall under this last category. In fact, if you were to tell me I could no longer have any caffeinated drinks, I may have to hurt you, as I simply cannot function without my hot tea and milk in the morning and at night. Now in all honesty, the hot tea and milk is more of a comfort drink than a desperate, dying need for caffeine, but still. It is caffeine, and watching me drink it at night does freak out husband-dear as well as a smattering of my friends, who always exclaim something like, "How can you sleep after drinking that?!" and then add in a "I would be up for hours!". Honestly, I don't know. I must be special somehow, as I can have a cappuccino right before bed, and still sleep like a baby. Maybe it's those European genes.

However, yesterday I think I managed to freak out husband-dear beyond belief with caffeine consumption and subsequent lack of response. Just to provide you with some context; I was grading until 11:30 the night before, and thus only had about five hours of sleep before I needed to get up and go to work again. So when I packed my lunch yesterday morning, I took a Diet Mountain Dew because I knew that that would surely prevent me from wanting to nap. And just for safekeeping, I also took one of those Starbucks Frapuccino drinks. By the time I got to work, the effect of the tea had worn off, and as our break room was still locked, and there was thus no chance of coffee, I instead opened my bottle of Frapuccino. Happily buzzing, I went to grading, when thirty minutes later Steve showed up with hot Mochas. Now you don't ever turn down free fancy coffees, and so I spent the next hour nursing my hot coffee. I'm sure you understand that when lunch time rolled around, I really didn't need any more caffeine, but all I had with me was that Mountain Dew. And since my Dutch genes prevent me from splurging on anything I don't desperately need, I had that. And let me tell you, I had the most productive day in my life. Seriously. I graded all my finals, finished calculating my final grades, and dealt with hordes of student in need of advisement in a nice and patient manner. It was amazing.

When I came home, and I told husband-dear about my day, he was certain I was going to one (or all) of three things: a) get sick, b) crash, c) not be able to sleep. I was convinced I would be fine. And I was. I rehung our curtains, rode the trainer, made husband-dear watch ANTM, and fell asleep the moment my head hit my pillow. I'm not sure, but I think husband-dear might have just been a tad jealous. Just a tad.