Anything is possible if you put your mind to it. Using one, small, pitiful example, I believe this.

If I had to list my vices in order, I’d undoubtedly place the warm, silky smooth, sometimes robust, dark and pleasing sips from my daily cup of coffee at the top of my list. If coffee were an alcoholic beverage I’d be the next Frank Gallagher.

For someone who loves coffee as much as I do it surprises me how picky I am about its preparation, though. It has to be hot and flavored creamer “was” a requirement … anything by Coffeemate, except for that God awful coconut flavor. There’s something about slowly pouring that creamer into the dark, rich abyss contained within my Buffalo Bills mug and seeing the creamy color swirl around as I slowly dissolve the addition with my spoon. It “was” a thing of beauty.

Call it an epiphany — call it another morning of waking up without a readied-bottle of creamer in the fridge — but I knew I had to change my ways. Drinking one to two pots of coffee a day probably isn’t doing me any favors in the long-term; adding a bottle of creamer composed of a whole bunch of ingredients ending in “ates” and “ides” is probably just piling on.

I’ve never been addicted to a drug, but changing my coffee habit after a solid 10 years of consistent intake provided a small and painful glimpse into that world. I can only imagine what hardcore drugs do to someone’s body. For my levity-filled column, however, I can only relate the withdrawal of coffee creamer. You didn’t think I was actually trying to give up coffee, did you!?

The last bottle I ever held was Cinnamon Vanilla Coffeemate … I poured its less-powerful, more commonly used counterpart — milk — into the remains of the vessel to try capture the last few drops of greatness. The flavor began to wear after the second day … a day shift at the office. I normally pack two travel mugs for these occasions, but it was getting harder to enjoy so I settled for one that day. For the next four days I suffered from caffeine-withdrawal-induced headaches. My brain and I get along pretty well, my reflexes are decent and it keeps me from sounding like a bumbling idiot — sometimes. During my experiment, however, a cloud of distrust and anger presented itself. The brain wants what it wants. I’m still working to mend this relationship I have broken so unjustly.

It’s been almost two weeks since the beginning of the end and I’m happy to report that things are getting better, and just in time. The catalyst I seemed to need was a weekend alone with my three youngest kids. My wife and oldest were out of town for a dance competition so the pity party ended right then and there.

“You want the caffeine, I want the coffee. Deal, brain?”

–Deal.

I now better understand the saying mind over matter. I minded that I was drinking coffee without creamer but that didn’t matter to the brain. Coffee is good. Caffeine is better.

It was a small, like I said, pitiful example but it has been a pretty fulfilling development in my everyday routine. I always envied the person who could just simply reply “black is fine” when being offered a cup of coffee. I’m not there yet, but I have a feeling once I get there, I’ll never need to go back.