Sunday, June 25, 2006

I admit to being smug in the past about not having addictions to drugs or alcohol. I admit to having had very little compassion towards those that do. I admit that I have even felt rage over the people in my life struggling with such addictions.
I admit that I now have two addictions so strong, so powerful, and so entwined together, that I can finally relate to the drinker that simultaneously lights up a cigarette, the couch potato that turns on the TV while grabbing the snacks. The fortunate/unfortunate thing about my addictions, is they are universally accepted, they are mainstream, they are strongly encouraged. I am fully addicted to my morning coffee and internet connection. I must do these two things before my day can officially begin. I'd sooner skip a shower than this critical and symbolic start to my day.
Two days in a row I have poured the coffee, the perfect first cup, in the mug that calls to me from behind the glass-covered cabinet. The exact right amount of cream is poured, the color is perfection. I am giddy with anticipation. This is a part of my day over which I have full control, and that first cup never fails to disappoint.
I tiptoe from the downstairs kitchen back upstairs to my office. My laptop is permanently muted, I don't dare wake a soul. This is my time, at the first sound of "Mooooooom" my day will be relinquished to my kids.
The computer comes to life, I click Internet Explorer, my icon reassures me that a wireless connection has been established, then..."Page cannot be displayed." I am sure this is a fluke. I am still sure it is a fluke twenty-five double clicks later.
I slide into the nearest pair of shoes and leave my house, camisole, no bra, boobs and belly button meeting in the middle, dirty pajama bottoms and hair in an unfortunate arrangement on my head. I drive like the possessed woman I am. I barely slow at the stop signs. My fix has not been had, I will drive anywhere, under any conditions to get it, now.
I find myself behind "Philly's", in a deserted parking lot, reminding myself, again, at how low I will stoop. It is 6:20 AM on a sunny Sunday morning. I look and behave exactly how I am feeling, absolutely single-minded to get my fix. "Philly's" is touted as having free Wi-Fi. I need Wi-fi. Problem, must have a "key". "Philly's" won't open for hours, I was hoping to just be adjacent to the Wi-Fi, it looks like a more invested relationship is now required.
"Starbucks! " I think to myself with relief. I know that somewhere I have a t-mobile card, shit, probably at home. I try to log-in anyway, who the hell knows their password in the state I am in? I am wild with need now, and the fix just won't be mine. I am fully-aware of my lunacy, while concurrently defending it.
"Hi, my name is Carrie, and I am an internet/coffee addict." They say that's the first step, right? Only 11 more to go.


kario said...

I can totally empathize. My children are fully aware that until my trifecta of morning rituals has been performed (shower, latte, email check), I am not a fully realized human being. It only took six years of repeating the mantra to them to have them understand. If only my husband were so trainable. Maybe my next husband will be...

jennifer said...

You capture the addict perfectly...tap tap tap...I think you are dealing with the R issue very well too. This writing was very funny, very you, very honest and not a bit supressed!


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