I have gone quite a few days without coffee. We ran out of the good stuff, and Matt convinced me to buy Folgers. Which I have yet to touch. It doesn't seem to be bothering him. "eh, it's good" is all he will say.
I about bit his head of this morning though, because he didn't offer me any! Every morning, he has offered me coffee and I say no. For some reason, this morning he did not, and when I ask about coffee, he had drunk it all. I think I was ready to rip his head off with my hands. That wouldn't be good. For one, prison. Eww. For two, I think murdering your fiance means I would lose my wedding deposits.
It's now 11:30 at night, and what am I thinking of? Coffee. A nice cup of french vanilla. As if not being able to fall asleep until 2:30 this morning weren't bad enough.