10 January 2009

All Wired Up on It

Despite my strong need for coffee (or at least something which resembles coffee closely enough, in smell or taste, to trick my body into believing it is coffee) first thing in the morning, I thought my crazy coffee addict days were mostly behind me. Coffee addiction is a natural consequence of a) working in a coffee shop ten to 12 hours per day, five to six days per week and b) having free cappuccinos on tap for said ~60 hour weeks. It is also a logical consequence of receiving a cappuccino maker at the age of 19 and realising one never has to go to Starbucks again. I drank a lot of coffee that year and the quantity only went up as I worked--and played--harder.

More recently, my caffeine intake had fallen to a cappuccino or double espresso at home before work and, on the days I am in the office, a mug of filter coffee later on. Occasionally, I will have a coffee in the evening, but usually only if I want to round off a nice meal in a restaurant. 

Today, I went a little overboard without even meaning to--or feeling as though I needed to. I had my usual double espresso first thing, which pepped me enough to temporarily believe that running around Hyde Park at 9 a.m. amid the ice and the frost and the fog was a real good idea. I still hadn't warmed up much, on my return, even after a lengthy and piping hot shower so I made myself a long cappuccino in my purpose built coffee mug, wrapping my gloved hands around the cup to try to warm them up as I ploughed through the Grauniad. I had some shopping to do so I pootled around town a little, rubbing my double gloved hands all the way to try to keep warm. I ended up at Lantana, which would definitely be my new favourite London coffee shop/cafe were its Fitzrovia location less convenient for me than many others. I had sweetcorn fritters (again!), this time served with crispy bacon, oven-roasted tomatoes, rocket and lime aioli, which was delicious. While waiting though, I automatically ordered a skinny cap. Error--it was good but meant I didn't feel very hungry.

I still had some shopping errands to run so spent the afternoon scampering all over town, picking up a load of second-hand books (the library was so far away and they probably wouldn't have what I wanted anyway--not that I usually know what I want, in advance, when it comes to books). I also fought my way to the DVD basement at Fopp, where they were selling lots of DVDs for £2 so I picked up The Machinist and a couple of others. It was blatantly a conspiracy that someone left The Machinist out for me to buy--all just a plot! I then went to meet a friend at the only decent coffee shop on the Charing Cross Road (although there are a couple of good 'uns just off it). Without thinking, I ordered a skinny cappuccino and then, later, another one and by the tine I got back to my flat to meet another friend I was if not jittery then just really fucking chatty. I was not remotely hungry, either, even though it was practically nine. My stomach just felt weird--probably my, of late, much under-used liver rebelling against having to actually doing its job for once.

The Machinist probably the best film to watch when you're feeling really hyper but headachey from too much coffee, as well as not having eaten for nine hours because it's really trippy and horrible to see Christian Bale so terribly skinny (I had to Google some pictures afterwards to reassure myself that it was just a role). I enjoyed it, though, even if the score did remind me of some of the Simpsons Treehouse of Horror specials. I like the use of an unreliable narrator and besides, after Mulholland Drive, you feel like you can get to grips with anything! Actually, the Machinist was a mix of Mullholland Drive, Memento, Fight Club and, maybe, Taxi Driver--maybe with a very tiny hint of Lost in Translation. In other words, good stuff, albeit très trippy.

Now, I need to get up quite early tomorrow morning to get the bus back to the Shire. Trouble is, I've drunk so much coffee today that although I feel like I could do with being more horizontal right now, I am not in the least bit sleepy. Error. I guess I'll have to sleep on the bus.

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