coffee 27 plus or minus 1

I find myself strangely absent from my own blog.
I have pages of notes on physics which I need to write up along with a 70 page second edition which will be the next big thing.
I have several chapters of Don Q ready to post, but nothing goes up on the blog.
This morning I will discuss this along with my failings as a human being.  This would have been a brilliant entry, but computer problems delayed it to the point where it will never be fully written and when written will be disorganized and meandering.
But this is about discontinuing coffee for 30 days.
I am, perhaps the only person in the world who knew that they believed that the debris washed ashore near Perth Australia  were not part of Malaysia Flight 370. I have this horrible vision that when they find the plane (in the year 2100) the bodies (long ago eaten by the deep water shrimp you see on the discovery channel) and forensic evidence will show that at the time of the crash they were all wearing yellow masks, except perhaps a stewardess outside of the cockpit door.  I don't think we'll ever know why.  The plane will be intact having been softly landed in the middle of nowhere.  Why?
But this blog is about coffee.  Not what is wrong with people. What are we that we are capable of madness?  I have written before about the total lack of "group intelligence" by mankind as a species.  As individuals we can be witty and intelligent.  We are clever enough to get laid and then smart enough to figure out a way to deny ourselves basic pleasures.  We go to war over things that mean nothing, we die for duty and save ourselves in shirking duty when the  result is a fate worse than death and all the other things that make me wonder why we call ourselves intelligent when at best we are conscious and at our worst a manifestation of something evil; well at least several billion years of natural selection and survival of the "fittest" whatever makes predators more fit than other predators.
But coffee.  I've done a poor job, straying twice, both times at lunch and involving a glass of tea; once justified because there was nothing on the table and the second time just because it was beautiful outside and I wanted one.
But does that really matter or does it only matter to me.