Darn You Nectar of the Gods!

Hello. My name is The Unemployed Diva. And I have a problem.


It all started a week ago. The fall weather flourishing... my comfy autumnal hued sweater on (accompanied with a pair of jeans that has been plaguing me but fit amazingly that day) and perfectly accessorized... hair beautifully quaffed... make-up applied to accentuate my hazelish eyes and cherubic face... I decided that the only thing that could make that day anymore wonderful was to stop by my local Barstucks (hahaha) and partake in a autumnal coffee drink. Oh how naive I was!!!!!!!!!

You see, back in my employed days, I was quite the Barstucks aficionado. I would visit The Temple of Coffee at least 4 times a week... In my unemployed status, I have tried to cut some of my luxuries (specialty coffee, manicures, pedicures, highlights, EYEBROW WAXING) to make the American Dollar go a bit further. It saddens me to say, but it's been almost 3 months since the last time I went to The Mecca.

When I walked in my senses went into overload. All of a sudden, I was a kid in the candy story, but taller and with my own atm card. In my fit of bliss, I ordered 2 drinks and a pumpkin scone. Forgive me Jackie Warner, for I have sinned as I'm pretty sure that none of that is considered "clean eating" and condoned by her. I think I would be able to forgive myself if I stopped there, but the problems started AFTER I drank the heaven in the 2 perfectly designed recycled paper cups and ate the pumpkin scone. The next morning I awoke with a jonesing like no other. Seriously, people. I'm pretty certain that only crackheads and meth addicts know the jonesing that I'm talking about. It was so bad that I pleaded with the Manfiriend to pull over at the nearest coffee dispenser (a GAS STATION!!!) so that I could get a fix.

The shame meter went to a new high that day.

To be clear - it's not getting coffee from a gas station that I'm ashamed of. There is a lot of good coffee out there served in gas stations. It's the fact that I asked him to pull over to a gas station when we did not need gas and used a voice and tone similar to one that a twitching, sniffing junkie would use when trying to score their next hit.

Darn you Barstucks! and your delicious coffee laced with caramel and toffee and mocha and nutmeg sprinkled on top!

As of today the shakes have stopped, but I'm considering going into some kind of recovery program so that innocent bystanders - Manfriend included - don't get hurt by my coffee ways.

With my fingers crossed, let's hope for the best, shall we?