I had been exposed to coffee from a very young age. I used to saunter into my grandpa’s office at a raw seven and look at him behind his big desk with all of his fancy paperweights and idolize the power I thought he had (cue the development of my irrational feminist beliefs as an elementary-schooler). My grandpa would sit at his desk with his white, plastic cup of coffee–always black–and basically chain smoke. Once he finished the coffee, he would proceed to both ash and put out his cigarettes in his plastic coffee cup. When I think of Sweet’n Low, I think of my grandpa.
My mom was always more of the Splenda type. She’s very into things “sugar free,” as if when something is “sugar free” it is automatically at least one million times healthier for you. She liked fro-yo via Tasti D-Lite before it was cool. She’s also worn Uggs since the 80’s. HA.
I think along the way, there was some sort of a genetic defect in which aspartame recombined via transformation (are those even the correct bio terms? probs not) and became a literal part of my DNA sequence. I was always very into Splenda too. Once, I ingested a total six Splenda packets before 8:30 am. I was also very into coffee because it reminded me of my grandpa and made me feel cool enough to act like I knew how to do office-y things like use a typewriter and the really simple task of opening a file cabinet by squeezing the handle. I used to drink solely decaf coffee on occasion. It was my middle school “dessert wine.” At the beginning of this year, I decided that in order to be a grown up I’d have to convert to caffeine, which I did. Then, I decided that no, no, no, I couldn’t drink coffee just with breakfast. I’d obviously have to have a cup with every meal!!! With Splenda on Splenda on Splenda!!!! Party!!!!!
Then, my stomach decided to act like it was getting an ulcer and as I have an eternal fear of colonoscopies due to my history of malicious experiences with my gastroenterologist, I stopped drinking coffee. But I still use Splenda. Rarely. Like more often than rarely. Often-rarely.
I mean, I’ve gotta do something cancerous, right?