Decaffeinated

As you know, I broke off a torrid love affair with the coffee stand yesterday. I don’t want to talk about it. But do not fear, faithful readers … my silent rage has never been known to last long …

I won’t belabor the point here, as I know you’ve come here to learn about how I’m minimizing my material possessions, and not to hear me complain about the caffeine-withdrawl induced headache that I can feel setting in. But I do believe that this blog should be about the entire process of minimization–not just a checklist of the many items (in the recesses of my husband’s closet) that I am finally passing on to be reincarnated in someone else’s life. As such, I believe that the process of giving up my caffeine addiction is noteworthy. Because deep within my soul, I do not believe that I am the *only* person I know cruising the coffee stand district every morning.

In fact, I believe every one of my husband’s sisters has been a barista (or bartender … that’s a different story) at some point in time. You know who you are. Mercilessly feeding my habit. But today, I will rise above … because I have a secret weapon that I found in the depths of my medicine cabinet. That’s right. Excedrin Migraine. One part pain reliever. Twelve parts caffeine. I’ll take two.

Meanwhile, I’d like to point out that when I said “depths” of my medicine cabinet, I really meant it … somewhere deep behind the princess and spiderman band-aids and the personal care products, we have a few select bottles of medicine. None of us are avid pill poppers … as evidenced by the expiration dates on most of these meds. To be completely honest, I did not realize that medicine expired. But it turns out, that most of mine expired somewhere around 2006 or 2007. What to do with all of these expired drugs?

I don’t want to throw them in the garbage where they’ll leak into landfills. But I’ve heard that it’s dangerous for the water supply if you flush them down your toilet. Here’s the thing though … we’re not on one of those fancy sewer systems that they have in the city. No, we have our own septic tank right here in our yard. In fact, the man who installed it assured me that this top-of-the-line-white-water-filtration-system leaves our sewage so clean we could drink what comes out of it. Normally, when someone presents me with a fact that I find outrageous, I find the need to test their credibility, and then systematically destroy them when they are wrong. In this case, I took the man’s word for it.

So, my deductive reasoning tells me that my septic system might, possibly, be the most responsible place to dump these expired drugs. (Note to the future owners of this home: If you cannot make the grass grow over the drain field for some unexplained reason, and the ground oozes when you step on it, please call Johnson & Johnson, Proctor & Gamble, and McNeil Pharmaceuticals simultaneously. Ask them to send their HazMat team. And whatever you do, do not attempt to drink the water that is being processed by your septic tank.)

So, today’s task will be to finish what I started. Minimizing the medicine cabinet, and for that matter, all of the cosmetics and toiletries wedged so tightly under my bathroom sink that I can’t open most of the drawers. And after that, I’m moving on to the linen closet. (I have to ask … how many sets of sheets can one bed possibly use at a single time? And if each bed has more than one sheet, then that means I can change the sheets and add the dirty linens to Mt. Laundry. No thanks. One sheet per bed. That’s it. Wash it early in the morning so it’s done before you need it again.) Check back later to see how my battle with the linens actually turns out …

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Ok, as my decaffeinated headache begins to pierce through my skull and between cells to the very stem of my brain, I believe the silence of my rage is beginning to subside. So, on that note, I have just one thing to say to all of you decaf-drinkers out there on your holier-than-thou-soapbox thinking to yourself that I could still enjoy the tantalizing smell, taste, and warmth of the illusive coffee bean without the caffeine. Well, let me tell you something about the process of decaffeination. Do you know how many chemicals are used in the process of extracting caffeine from your beans? So many that your coffee probably glows in the dark if you turn out the light. So, you can take your decaf puritanism and … soak it in some benzene, dichloromethane or ethyl acetate for about 10 hours. Get back to me then … I’m sure I’ll be feeling much better, and you’ll still be a toxic mess.

For the record, nobody breathes a word of this to my husband.