I am on day four of drinking my coffee without sugar!
I miss the sugar.
I add cinnamon.
It’s not the same.
Not at all.
But if I’m going to kick (or, in Biblical terms, “put to death”) my addiction to sugar, I think it needs to start with the biggest culprit of all.
Have I mentioned that I add a LOT of sugar to my coffee?
So much so that close friends joke, “So, are you going to have coffee with your sugar?”
My husband calls it my “kid-coffee.”
And they’re right.
I told my mother-in-law about my decision, and she—knowing I generally disdain the little sugar packets she uses in her coffee, knowing I go for the scooper and the five-pound bag she keeps tucked way back in the cupboard—she suggested I wean myself gradually.
I’ve tried that.
Three level teaspoons, rounded teaspoons, heaping teaspoons…hmm, what’s the real difference? Maybe I should go for four—or five! It’s just a few extra calories.
Somehow cold turkey feels right.
Well, not exactly “right.”
It feels necessary.