Last year, when I was a sophomore, I had Spanish at 8:30 AM five days a week.

While this may not seem like a huge deal, going to bed each night at 2 AM and then proceeding to wake up with less than 6 hours of sleep was not conducive to being alive.

Evidently: you are supposed to get a reasonable amount of sleep each night. And my body was not holding up well under the sudden pressure of minimal downtime.

Mornings typically went something like this:

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Alarm Clock: WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP!

Andrew’s Body: Good luck with that.

Alarm Clock: But…I thought…you…had class?

Andrew’s Body: Fool of a Took! Don’t let his Mind hear you say that!

Alarm Clock: But…I…

Andrew’s Mind [dreaming]: So…many…storm troopers….must…destroy…reactor shield generator…GAHHHHH!

Alarm Clock: I… I don’t know why I exist anymore.

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After many mornings of stumbling incoherently to class, or failing to awake at all, I resolved to correct this unhealthy method of existence wherein I was not getting enough sleep. But the decision did not involve an earlier bedtime.

Instead: I decided to start drinking coffee.

Which is probably the best/worst decision I have ever made.

The plan began like this: if I ever went to bed particularly late I would allow myself a single cup of Joe the next morning.

The first time I tried this, I arrived at class 35 minutes early and proceeded to complete the entire week’s worth of homework over the next 8 minutes. 12 minutes were spent rearranging the classroom desk-chairs to form a fort in which I crouched, shooting staples at wastebasket warriors [the enemy]. 15 minutes were spent returning the desk-chairs to their positions and drawing a blueprint of the entire building on the chalkboard with which I planned barricade and defense points for use in a zombie attack.

I was superhuman. And it wasn’t because a mutated spider had bitten me. It wasn’t because this planet’s properties were unlike my home planet of Krypton, allowing me to excel. It wasn’t because I trained at a Monastery that allowed me to overcome my fear of bats.

It was Coffee that created me.

(Lightning strike. Maniacal laugh.)

In the first few weeks of my coffee drinking: I joined 2 clubs, got 3 jobs, signed up for a marathon and still felt like I could be doing more.

Coffee meant that there weren’t enough hours in the day.

This, naturally, led to coffee consumption at an increasing level. Now, I drink upwards of 2 cups per day.

I am addicted.

But will never go to rehab.

Coffee, I have learned, is incredible. And each time I take a sip of that liquid energy, I bask in the power that begins flowing through my veins. Side effects include an increased level of motivation. With a cup of coffee in me, I question every decision I have ever made. I get involved in an unnecessary amount of obligations.  I create weapons to be used against zombies. Once, I ran up and down my street 6 times in my pajamas because I was worried about the amount of exercise I was getting (it was winter).  Occasionally I will clean the entire house at 3 AM.

And it all started because of an early Spanish class.

Now, my biggest fear, is that when the Zombie Apocalypse finally comes I will not have an ample stockpile of coffee.

But the good news is that I will be well armed and will have well-planned barricade points.

-Andrew