Under The Influence

I am, regrettably, on my second cup of coffee right now. I am also, regrettably, reduced to writing about coffee again. It seems as though creative inspiration is lacking on this Monday morning at the bank. My view consists of the back of a church, another bank, and a grain elevator in the background. An awe-inspiring vista that ranks up there with Machu Pichu and the Himalayan mountains.

I had proudly abstained from coffee my entire life until this year. Each morning in college, my roommate would brew a pot, start on his homework, and then ask me if I wanted some when I woke up.
"No thanks"
"I'll get you hooked one of these days." He would say, and then go back to his religion paper, fueled by his early morning energy. I always preferred to wake up naturally based on some strange self-reliant complex I must possess.

I have found that I can get up, scramble to work in the nick of time, and be fully awake. I don't need the coffee to wake up. But because of the excitement level my job entails, I do need the coffee to stay awake.

And I have found that, by drinking coffee, I have reached a new level of 'alertness'. Sure, my hands might get a little fidgety, and sure, I might knock things off my desk spastically when someone walks in, but damn, my hand can swoop down and catch that pen (mid-air) faster than you can blink an eye. Conversely, when I focus myself on a random task, it suddenly engulfs 100% of my attention. Jesse James could have a revolver to the back of my head, but damn it, I need to finish this spreadsheet! It would take no les than a bludgeon to the head, which would only make me swivel around in my chair. Scratching my neck nervously, with a crazed look in my eyes, I would hiss at him "Hey man, you got any beans? Fresh Guatemalan beans? Huh, huh?" Then I take a big pull from my thermos, and with my figure vibrating at 'jackhammer frequency', would challenge Mr. James. "You can't shoot what you can't see can ya! Can ya!" I would most likely then grab his gun with the speed of a thousand twitchy squirrels, jump on his back and search his satchel for a tin of Folgers Crystals, focused %100.

I have no doubt, in the time I have written this, about ten to twelve customers have come up to the window here, hoping to make a simple transaction, but found themselves screaming incredulously at a figure typing away at the computer... with a crazed look in his twitching eye.

Now, let's brew some more. It's... a long day, and... my energy source... is running... lowwww...