I have been in this library for twelve and a half hours in the past two days.
I have been in my apartment for...three.
Besides extreme fatigue, an improper intimacy with Brandel Library, and an ever-expanding list of odd realizations (including the one that when I'm extremely tired and not wearing my glasses, my ring looks extra sparkly), there has been another important development this weekend: I became a coffee drinker.
It all started with Amanda making a nighttime run to Starbucks, asking what I wanted on her way out. Maybe it was the fatigue. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour. Maybe it was the list of exegetical terms running through my mind clouding my judgement, but I sent her off with the mission of getting me a coffee-type beverage that I, a non-coffee drinker, would like. She came back with an Espresso Truffle. It was a success.
Next was the Peppermint Latte. Even more tasty.
And soon, after falling asleep on Kasey's couch last night while working on my World Religions term paper, it hit optimal mass. I woke up and walked back to my apartment to get ready for church, clutching the mug of coffee that Kasey had poured for me before I'd left. It steamed against the winter chill, a smokestack of morning pep in the otherwise barren alley. No, Mr. Finals Week, I will not let you dominate me. I will get up and go about my day. You will not ruin my life. I have coffee now. And the Holy Spirit. I am invincible.
...and that's the beginning of the end. I'm really hoping that I turn out to be an occasional coffee drinker, the type that will order a cappuccino instead of dessert and absentmindedly stir it while talking about Proust or Hemingway after dinner; the "I'm-really-grumpy-in-the-morning-until-I-get-my-coffee" type seem much less glamorous.
For tonight though, I have an exegetical paper to write, a jury to prepare for, and a Greek review class in the morning. Bring on the bean...the coffee bean that is.