Hello everyone, I'm Ali, and I have an addiction. I will not sugar coat this, no, this is not an addiction to your caramel macchiato (double cream, triple syrup), or your pumpkin spice latte (with whipped topping and sprinklings of cinnamon), not even the triple chocolate chip mocha frappuccino with chocolate shavings and please, make it with extra "mocha" because I need the coffee. This is about an addiction to coffee. Actual coffee. Smooth, caffeine oozing coffee.

I'm not picky about my coffee, nor would I call myself a coffee "connoisseur" or a coffee snob. As long as it's coffee, I'm good, I'm happy, I'm fine. Just for the moment, my eyes are open, and I've got a rush moving on through my head, wrapping around my brain, and through to my veins; racing to find my fingertips and keeping me on my toes. This is what I need. Thank you, oh thank you, coffee beans.

Like any addict, doing whatever it takes, by any means possible, to get to their drug of choice, I have resorted to the lowest of lows, bottoming out and finding myself where I would rather not admit. Gas station coffee, vending machine coffee, days-old coffee-pot coffee reheated in the microwave, licking the last feasible droplets of espresso residue lingering on the lid of my disposable coffee cup...the list goes on.

I will do whatever it takes to get my coffee. Sure, I prefer mine with a splash of coconut milk and a couple Splenda...maybe some hazelnut flavor, if we're feeling extra special, but I will take it any way I can. If stale black coffee is what I need to pour down the back of my throat in order to get the fix, then so be it.

Sure, I've tried to stop. I've tried decaffeinated coffee even, similar to a smoker trying to kick the habit with a nicotine patch, some gum, or the ever-more-popular E-Cig, but it's not the same. I need the caffeine. It's the caffeine I crave. It's the caffeine I require. Taking away the one most important ingredient of my drug is no different than taking the joy out of life. There's no replacement.

I run on the stuff. I can't do life without it. Coffee is life and life is coffee. I am coffee. My blood is coffee. My urine reeks of coffee. Here I am admitting to my most guilty pleasure in life, but here I am also confessing that I see no wrong. Coffee makes me happy, makes me reasonable, functional, tolerable, maybe even someone pleasant to be around. It is my drug of choice, but at the same time, no drug at all. There are no track marks on my arms, no red eyes. Dismissing the signs of withdrawal (headaches and shivers when I don't get my fix, but hey, I ALWAYS get my fix), the only negative effect is the constant sucking of change from my wallet. Keurig cups, Starbucks cups, ground coffee for the pot, even the gas station coffee; it all adds up. But it's worth it.

So here I am. An addict. A coffee addict.

And I am proud.