Jujube-Free June was a raging success—ditching the added and refined sugar proved easier than I thought, plus I lost five pounds. But true disciples will know, June was supposed to be the no-coffee month. I stand by my decision to swap June and July, because I needed to get a lot of writing done in the last month (and I did—a personal best of an insane 58,000 words) and caffeine withdrawal was not opportune.
But I can put it off no longer. As I type this, I've got my mug of green tea steeping beside me. Green tea is acceptable, because I'm not actually giving up caffeine this month, just coffee. Coffee for me is as much an emotional crutch as it is a chemical one. When I don't feel like working, I make myself a cup of coffee (often decaf) because having it there makes it feel less like I'm shackled to my keyboard, somehow. Other writers do that with chocolate, if the author stereotypes are true. Being allowed an oral fixation makes staying planted in one's seat far more bearable. Can't hurt to trick one's brain into associating writing with pleasure, right? Especially for those days when it feels more akin to amateur trepanning.
Now it's too early to report on withdrawal, but I'll return with my findings…and my suffering, because I know that's what all you sickos come here for. I've also been warned that day three is the worst in one's break-up with any chemical mistress, so stayed tuned for that trainwreck.
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