However long it's been, I'm sure that it can be classified as a full-fledged addiction at this point.
I mean, I think about coffee often. I contemplate coffee. I ponder the great and meaningful coffee questions of the universe. What if I run out of money for coffee? It's possible in these challenging financial times. What if my coffee maker breaks? She's old, but she's reliable, and she makes a sweet cup of java. What if...what if the entire world stash of coffee runs out?
You think I have a twisted mind? Well consider these chilling scenarios that have played over and over in my mind. What if I was kidnapped? I think I'd be OK, as long as my captor gave me coffee. And what if I was in a plane crash and washed up on a deserted island? You can bet your boots that I would be swimming out to the wreckage, trying to find those little floating one-pot coffee packs. Sharks would be no match for me, a coffee-crazed castaway!
I don't worry about being beaten to death or being eaten by wild animals. I worry about not having my coffee...
Yep, I think this qualifies as an addiction.