I love coffee. I don't love zombies - what, are you crazy or something? However I do love The Walking Dead. That's a story for another day.
But before I get too sidetracked with zombies, back to coffee. I really, really, really do love coffee. But only good coffee. And honestly, I make the best coffee, myself, at home on my ancient Breville espresso machine. This is the best coffee not because I'm some incredibly gifted barista, I'm not (although I did work in a cafe some time back), but because I can make it exactly how I like it. Although I must give credit where it's due; my husband and my eldest stepdaughter make pretty good coffee too.
Look, the verdict seems a bit confused about whether coffee is good for you or not-too-bad if it's consumed in moderation, or utter devil-spawn poison that should never pass your lips, but I don't actually care. I enjoy drinking coffee and I don't intend to stop doing it because someone else thinks I should because it might - and I emphasise the might - be better for me. My husband suggested once we should do one of those cleansing drink-no-other-beverage-besides-water things and honestly, there was nearly a divorce. I did consider it. For about 5 seconds. The drinking only water, not the divorce.
I love coffee. I love the taste, the smell, the ritual. I love getting the perfect silken foam on the steamed milk when I make it myself; I love the indulgence of sitting and drinking an excellent cup of coffee in a favourite cafe, because someone else made it for me, and the things other people make for you are little treasures and you need to savour them.
I feel like my truest self when I drink coffee. I do drink tea, and I continue to try various blends and brands, but these are more of a flirtation. If someone asks me, 'coffee or tea?' the answer has to be coffee.
Which brings me to the zombies. Coffee contains caffeine, which is admittedly a stimulant, and one that can cause inconveniences like headaches if you suddenly cut off your supply.
And here we come to the rub: I am pretty much a coffee-operated organism. And after the zombie apocalypse, when there's no electricity and no fuel and we're fighting over cans of tinned peaches, what then? What am I going to do when the coffee runs out? The zombies will catch me for sure.
Although it is possible that as I will be moving very slowly and already biting at everyone around me, the zombies will pass me by, mistaking me for one of their own.
I'm a writer. I love words and story. I'm also rather fond of my husband and my dog.