There are three things I need every morning: food, a shower, and a cup of coffee. I hate that I'm addicted to the bean and that I'm headache-y and surly without it, yet jittery and irritable under its spell. There is no happy balance, only a downward spiral, and I think there is nothing for me but to break the cycle of addiction. Until the next time. My poor husband hates it when I go off coffee, not because of my moods, but because I end up banishing the 10-cup coffeemaker from the kitchen. I am helpless to defend myself against the aroma of drip-brewed joe. If it is there, I will pour it, I will doctor it lovingly with sugar and half-and-half, I will go back for more. I cannot stay away from the java (sing it with me, "I like coffee, sweet and hot..."). Cradling a mug in my hands and sipping from it is both a social act and a private meditation. It ties me to the other mothers who long to finish one cup before it goes cold, and it links me to my own first tastes from the bottom of my mother's mug, the remnants of her daily Maxwell House and CoffeeMate. (Like my contemporaries, she often left her cup on a counter somewhere and said the first cup of coffee she had that was warm to the bottom was the one she drank after we bought our first microwave.)
There is something feminine about sweetened, creamy coffee and also about bitchiness. Being bitchy is not just about being irritable, but also implies a certain cattiness, a coffee klatch gossipiness. It's about looking pretty on the outside but being full of spite on the inside. This, for some reason, reminded me of the doll-sized tea set in the attic and my beautiful but seldom-worn pearls. Elegant tchotchkes, bitter beans.
At home, we use bitchy in a more general sense, to indicate that somebody is grumpy, stand-offish, and speaking sharply to people without any apparent cause. Griff thought of photographing his brother Reese, who is often in a bitchy mood. His quick, barely-controlled pen strokes remind me of the snappish tone I use when feeling this way.
Can I admit something? I'm on the edge of bitchiness. Two weeks into this project, I'm feeling exhausted. I love the brainstorming, the intense focus of making an image, the learning process of editing, and, of course, the blogging...but it's also overwhelming and more than a little difficult to sustain. I'm very glad that the weekend is coming up and hope I can tackle some other (shamefully neglected) projects and responsibilities. Will I make it through the year? If I do, what will I have given up in exchange?
