I've got a bit of a reputation around the office for being completely useless and insufferable before I've had my first two or three cups of coffee. Although I'm not that bothered by this, I'm also not particularly pleased about it — I think that participation in the geek cult of caffeine is a fairly lame affectation, and I'd like to think that I can function without a chemical crutch. I haven't intentionally cultivated this reputation; I guess I've just accidentally been kind of mean to people.

But it's definitely true that I'm a better Tom when I have a few cups of coffee in me. I'm happier, smarter, and a much better writer — especially when I'm perched in that perfect spot between very- and too-caffeinated.

I don't think I'm much of a coffee snob, or at least I hope I'm not. I drink enough of the stuff (and take it unadorned) that I don't taste very much as I down it unless it's a particularly strong brew or has been burnt into sourness. And even if it has, I'll drink pretty much anything. I may talk excitedly about burr grinders and occasionally bring in bottles of vinegar to clean the office Mr. Coffee, but I'll happily suck down Flavia, too (so long as it isn't the flavored kind).

But the last couple of days have gotten me wondering about my brand. My all-time favorite is Trader Joe's house beans, which make me ecstatically wired and have most often done so when I'm working from home (this definitely helps build up positive associations). But at the office I'll drink whatever shows up in the kitchen. We've recently switched to this Storyville stuff, and the last few days I've found myself walking around in a foul-tempered funk. Each time a cup from Caribou cleared things right up, though, bringing me back to a relatively ebullient version of myself.

I know this is probably all psychosomatic. Still, it's a little weird. I've had extreme reactions to particular coffee before (although in that case I sort of suspect that the stuff was tainted with a distinctly non-coffee ingredient). Other folks have theorized that Starbucks' popularity is due to its much higher caffeine levels relative to other brands. And it's not as if caffeine is the only psychoactive chemical in coffee — there's theophylline, theobromine, and who knows how many others (partially burning food creates lots of chemical variation ). Like chocolate, there are probably a whole host of subtle physiological and psychological effects induced by coffee that aren't easy to consciously notice, but which contribute to how we use and perceive it. Is it unreasonable to think that different brands, blends and roasts may represent different ratios of these chemicals, and that they may induce varying affects? We've all heard people claim that tequila makes them crazy, or that gin gives them headaches, or that Jaegermeister makes them fight people. Right? Is it so crazy to think that this could happen, albeit on a smaller scale, with coffee?

The answer is almost certainly Yes, Tom, it's crazy to think that. The fact that you've been staying up late reading terrible Civil War comic books probably has a lot more to do with your foul moods over the last two days than anything you've had to drink. The difference is that fussing over coffee is more fun than not-reading-comics.

But now that I've convinced myself of this chemical curiousity — no matter how slightly — all hope of a rational explanation is gone. Until I settle on a similarly-magical countermeasure, I'll probably keep thinking that Storyville beans make me a jerk.