A Sip of Sanity

I'm a drinker, which means I walk around with some type of liquid refreshment close at hand all day long. My beverages of choice are numerous and varied including coffee, hot tea, iced tea, pink grapefruit juice, orange-pineapple juice, ginger ale, lemon-lime soda, chocolate milk, dark beer, light beer, vodka, and gin, to name a few.

I know people who drink only water. While I understand this is a healthful practice meant to cleanse the system daily, the only real bath, shower, or spa I'm interested in works on the outside of my body and comes complete with scented oils and lavishly lathering shampoos. I spend a lot of time with my liquid refreshment, and I want it to taste like something, beginning with the morning coffee.

I did not learn to drink coffee until I was an adult. (I do realize it is an acquired taste, and my mother-in-law graciously educated me in this area by acquainting me with Starbucks some years ago.) These days I'm not as interested in drinking a dessert of caramel and whipped cream, but I have learned to appreciate a good cup of coffee. It is, especially on dark winter mornings, the elixir of life that helps me climb out of a sleepy stupor and into a productive day of telling kids what to do. As the weather warms up (which happens early and quickly in central Arizona), I prefer my morning jolt over ice, but I want it nonetheless. My students caution me regularly on how addictive and destructive a java habit can be, but I really don't think they'd like me if I skipped a cup of joe before spending the day with them. Besides, these days if you don't like the report that says your food and beverage choices are harmful, flip to another web site and read some contradictory material to soothe your conscience. I do. And, finally, to those who consistently criticize my food and beverage choices, all I can say is you've gotta die of something.

After my morning routine of coffee coupled with some ice-cold juice, my stomach seems ready to move on to other beverages. These may be somewhat limited by work, since I cannot generally stop in the middle of teaching the three-prong, five paragraph essay form to pick up a drink at Quick Trip. Fortunately, a small dorm-sized refrigerator is my savior rendering a handy supply of sodas and iced tea to my parched existence, because if I have to spend more than 30 minutes without wetting my whistle, things can get ugly. To be fair, students are also allowed to keep liquid refreshment close at hand for a rehydration emergency, and thus everyone is happy.

Later, as the day draws to a close, I move into the third stage of my beverage routine and line up a glass of wine with dinner (I especially favor a nice Chianti.), or finish off a beer that I opened to make fish batter. Sometimes, the setting sun's burst of pinks and purples playing across the vastness of the sky and giving way to darkness dotted with the first evening stars calls for a toast, and I oblige with a perfect dirty martini made from Trader Joe's olive juice, Bombay Sapphire Gin, and just a breath of vermouth. Hands down, this is my favorite way to sip through the cocktail hour at the end of a well-accomplished day.

Later, as my family settles down to watch TV for the evening, a steaming pot of herbal tea is on the menu. My favorites are saturated fruity flavors like raspberry and sweet cherry, or strong, dark, spicy brews featuring Madagascar cinnamon and aromatic chai. Mugs of these beverages signal my tired body that it is time to relax, unwind, and begin shutting down for the night. Coupled with a few vanilla tea biscuits or crunchy ginger snap cookies, hot tea creates the perfect atmosphere in which to bid the day goodnight.

In addition to keeping my body hydrated throughout the day and shifting my brain into various modes of operation, drinking occupies my mouth at crucial times when I might be tempted to put my foot there instead. For example, when a student asks the same question I have answered at least three times already (such as "How many points is this worth?" "Is this homework?" or "What if my printer won't work?") I can take a long drink of peach tea and a deep cleansing breath rather than disabusing him of the notion that he is an intellectual giant. This works with colleagues as well. If someone comes in and asks about the grading process for school-wide writing (which is clearly delineated in the instructions that he obviously didn't bother to read), before I say something about how a person with a college degree should be able to figure it out on his own, I can swig some ginger ale, pause to paste on a smile, and answer the question as if it is the most pertinent one I've ever heard. So, you see, spending the day with a glass, a can, or a mug in my hand keeps me from becoming dehydrated, but it also keeps me from going insane.