I was chatting with a dear friend one afternoon about anything mundane then coffee was brought up, which made me remember that I made one for myself. I reached for it to take a sip but it has gone cold and told her which she immediately quipped, ‘What’s new? Your coffee always gets cold before you could even finish it' and such gibe led me to asking myself, 'Why?’
Why? In the surface, to me it is just simply forgetting. I easily get swayed by anything that appeals to my interest. Like right now, as I am penning down these fragments of regard on coffee getting cold, a cup of coffee is actually in front of me, still and patiently waiting for my attention and thirst for the delight that's inside it. But words are coming forth and I am feeling the need to jot them down, religiously scribbling in between lines of page in the notepad, else they are gone forever.
Yes, my coffee often or should I say always gone cold before I could have its last drop. Wherever I was. Whenever it was. Whoever I was with. Or, this may be me: instinctively holding the cup of coffee, on to take a sip but hold off for an interesting thought was brought up, then came the unending blab, then again holds the cup for a sip yet there again the birth of another topic and babble the thoughts away and on repeat until the coffee is forgotten and until it's time to leave.
I have not actually given a thought about my coffee often getting cold but what my friend said has sparked an interest in me to discern and look at it more. Coffee gets me elated, from the first hold of the hot cup, to the first sip, until the cup bottom settles on the table then commence the forgetting.
Such discernment brought me years back in my college days. I was actually told that I have a Ningas-Cogon attitude by one of my professors. It's an idiom in my native tongue. Ningas is flame and cogon is a rough, long, thin and dry grass that easily catches fire but burns out quickly. So yes, I was full of enthusiasm and passion initially but wither the soonest unexpectedly. I hate Math since time immemorial but for whatever reason, I found Probability and Statistics interesting then. At the first phase of the semester, I excelled (ehem! haughtiness aside) which got my professor’s attention but my interest died down even before the semester ended. Hmm, the comparison makes sense.
Honestly, I easily get bored. My passion for like anything dies down easily. Maybe should we just call it a craving since it’s when it gets satisfied even just a taste of whatever it is, I am done. But with regards to my coffee often getting cold, could there be any psychological reason behind it or, maybe am just making a fuss on this petty matter?