Istarted drinking coffee when I was 11 years old. My grandmother, who drank her coffee in bed all her life, let me try it for the first time. Even though the coffee she made me was a mostly-milk latte, I felt so special and so “grown up,” that I immediately became obsessed.

What started as a cute tradition with my grandmother became a dependency that worsened in college. My course load often kept me up until 3 a.m., and I began to rely on the university cafe’s strong black coffee to help me function throughout the day. When I graduated and started my career, drinking coffee on an empty stomach became a regular part of my routine. It was something I didn’t even question; I did it by default. Every morning, I’d march into the office with my extra large thermos of coffee and settle in at m

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