Going Chuck Norris on the Disobedience Monster

Only 13 more days till I can drink coffee again! Part of me wants to that life without coffee isn't so bad. Really. I don't think about it all that much. But man, when I do think about it, it's usually because I could really use some.

And it's not like I can just not think about because the stuff is EVERYWHERE. McDonald's is advertising new "bolder, richer coffee" with big banners over their stores. Ryan Bourque is coming over every Tuesday and Thursday morning for a fresh cup. I walk into Cafe XA, there's coffee. I go to my office in Griffin, there's coffee. I eat upstairs in the Student Union, there's coffee. I walk around campus, every freakin' body is drinkin' coffee!

Remember last week, when I told you about the Conscience Monster? Well, now the Disobedience Monster is messing with me:

"C'mon, Ken. You don't really have to do this."

"I know I don't, Disobedience Monster. I wanted to do it."

"No you didn't. You were just giving in to the peer pressure of the Conscience Monster."

"Well, yeah, sort of, but I wanted to give in to him."

"But 40 days is such a looong time."

"Not really."

"You could just have a little. No one would know about it."

"I would know about it, and that's enough. Now, shut your fat, stupid face before I roundhouse kick it, Chuck Norris-style."

"You wouldn't do that, would . . . " WHAM!

"Don't ever doubt me again, fool."

And that's how I deal with the Disobedience Monster. A little roundhouse action sends him running back home to his momma. And yeah, he usually goes back, works out, beefs up a little bit, and tries to come back looking all bad and strong. That's why I just keep eating my cereal. Nothing keeps you prepared for an attack from Disobedience like a healthy bowl of Frosted Flakes. That fool ain't got nothin' on the power of those sweet, crispy, whole grain flakes drowned in a giant bowl with pure, white, lipidy whole milk. That's right. Believe that.

~Ken, Born of Fire

Coffee, Lent, and the Conscience Monster

I gave up coffee for Lent.

Can you believe that? Perhaps I should say it again:

I gave up coffee for Lent.

"Why?" you ask? Well, I'm not 100% sure. I'm not Catholic, so it's not like I'm supposed to give up something for Lent. But I have done it in the past. The first time I did it I simply wasn't aware that it was a Catholic tradition. I had just become a Christian, and I thought it was something all Christians did. The year after that, I knew that it was a Catholic tradition, but I thought it was pretty cool so I did it anyway. Then for the next few years I didn't do it at all, and I wasn't exactly planning to this year either. This is how it happened:

I was in the Chi Alpha house with Amanda J Meadows and April Hermanson. I was eating at the kitchen table and they were chatting in the living room when I heard April say, "So I'm thinking about giving up coffee for Lent."

"Hmm, that's quite admirable of her," I thought to myself.

Then as soon as I thought that, the Conscience Monster whispered in my ear, "If it's so admirable, why don't you do it?"

"No, Conscience Monster," I immediately retorted. "You're just trying to make me do something 'religious' so I can feel good about myself and impress people. Well, I'm not gonna fall for it."

"That's not it at all," he argued. "Can't you just do something good for the sake of doing something good, and for your own benefit?"

"Well . . . yeah . . . I guess . . . But I really like coffee."

"Exactly."

"And what about Ryan? We drink coffee together every Tuesday and Thursday morning. He would be so disappointed."

"He can still come over and drink coffee, and y'all can still talk. It's the talking that's the important thing, right? Not the coffee?"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right. Okay, well, I'll do it."

At this point April walks back into the room after having gone to McDonald's.

"Hey, April, guess what . . . I think I'm gonna give up coffee for Lent, too."

"Really? That's awesome," she exclaimed.

Now going back inside my head:

"Oh no. What have I just done? I told someone. That means I have to stay committed to it."

"Yep, it sure does."

"No one asked for your input, Conscience Monster."

"Hey, look at the bright side. You'll save a lot of money."

"Yeah, whatever."

The lesson to be learned here is that the Conscience Monster is a ruthless beast, who will stop at nothing to make you do what he wants. He normally hides out under your bed, and he looks like a giant meatball.

In my next post, I'll tell you all about life without coffee and what it's like.