Coffee: Part Two

   About a year and a half ago, I wrote a post called "Coffee", in which I waxed eloquently about my relationship with java. I actually just re-read it and I couldn't believe how much I actually had to say about the subject. If you really want to see what I mean by that, you can go here and take a gander.
   Well, my relationship with coffee has changed in the last three weeks.
   About three weeks ago, I went about eliminating as much of the extraneous sugar as I could from my diet. This, unfortunately, included the spoon-and-a-half to two spoonfuls of sugar and/or honey I regularly took in my coffee.
   I have also avoided the use of any kind of sweetener---in the past, they've either caused more problems than the sugar has or they've been extremely expensive. All I have in my coffee now is a little cream or milk.
   This all has changed the coffee experience for me greatly. Before the change, I looked forward to and relished the idea of sitting down to a cup. It had the power to at least briefly transport me away from whatever I was doing or, if not, at least accompany me on the journey as a trusted friend. Nowadays...not so.
   These days, this is what my face does when I take my first sip of coffee:

This is EXACTLY what my face looks
like when I drink sugar-less coffee.

   Eventually, the shock of sugar-less coffee wears off and I can finish the cup with a more-or-less normal look on my face. It does take a fair amount of willpower, though.
   So this begs the question---is it the coffee I used to enjoy? Or just the sugar?
   In spite of the fact that I'm not enjoying the coffee as much anymore, I'm still drinking about as much as I used to. When I look at all the sugarless drink options out there, none inspire me. When you have loved the best....
   Anyway, I do ask myself why I continue to drink it if I barely enjoy it anymore? Could be that I enjoy the companionship, as weird as that might sound. It might even be that simply having a mug at my side somehow completes me, regardless of the nature of its contents. Perhaps it's the warmth on my hands, who really knows? There is something almost visceral about reaching for a cup or mug without even needing to look at it because you always leave it the same distance from your arm and the handle is always turned to the exact point you need it to be at in order to grasp your coffee seamlessly and effortlessly, without thinking about it.
   As I write this, I have about two more sips left of this evening's coffee. It's cold now but not enough's left to bother heating it up. I'm drinking it out of my "mr. almost perfect" coffee mug and things almost are perfect.
   Except for the coffee...