My name is Chrissie ... and I'm a caffeine addict

More specifically, a coffee addict.

Before I became a mother, I fancied myself a coffee addict. But I also considered a coffee addict someone who had to have coffee every morning.

Now?

I have to have coffee every morning ... and afternoon ... and sometimes evening.

I used to think someone who drank as much coffee as I currently do (sometimes three cups in the morning and then another in the afternoon if I feel so inclined) was on a sure-fire path toward an ulcer.

Now I see my habits as a method of survival.

Sometimes, in my fast-paced world of routine, my love of coffee is what keeps me moving toward the next day. I don't know if I should consider it sad that I sometimes fall asleep with my mouth watering as I think about the next morning's cup.

You think I'm exaggerating.

It was the moment that happened for the first time that I realized I might have a problem.

But I embrace it. I look at it as the silver lining of sleep deprivation.

It's the little things in life that keep us moving day-to-day (both figuratively and literally ... but I digress) and this is one of my little things: my morning cup(s) of coffee.

It could be worse. I could ingest my caffeine in (::gasp::) pill form as I did in my college days.

Okay, how many flashed back to Saved By the Bell?

"I'm so excited! I'm so excited!"

Perhaps I've already overdone it this morning ...