Coffee, coffee, coffee

I learned a song back in fifth grade that’s popped back into my head recently. I don’t know where it came from or who created it. I can’t for the life of me remember why we originally learned it. But it’s been playing over and over in my head this third week of term.

The lyrics are as follows:

C-o-f-f-e-e: coffee is not for me.
It’s a drink some people wake up with.
That it makes them nervous is no myth.
Slaves to a coffee cup, they can’t give coffee up.

Eleven years after learning it, I’m starting to understand what it means. I’ve had a cup or two today. A friend remarked to me today how every garbage can in the building was overflowing with to-go coffee cups – and how glad she was, since it meant that she wasn’t the only one addicted. And just minutes ago, I found out that overconsumption of coffee can lead to auditory hallucinations.

I think it’s safe to say that at a university and in a newsroom, we are indeed slaves to a coffee cup.

What an appropriate song to recall this month.