‘A little bit of what you fancy” is a call for moderation that has never worked for me. Not for my coffee habit, at least, which slides from the steely resolve to drink just two cups a day, to a wobbly-willed four, five mugs, or more. I’m better at giving it up altogether. Total detox brings the high of self-control and the illusion that I have overcome the caffeine addiction, at least until I fall off the wagon again.
But some vices shouldn’t be given up, because they bring pleasure – and coffee is one of those for me. I love its mood-transforming uplift. It revs me up and calms me down. I once gave it up for two months – my longest abstention – hoping to shake off a virulent bout of insomnia, and it seemed as if I had entered the wilderness. Life felt more austere and my sleeplessness wasn’t solved, either. It was lose-lose.
