One of the things that Jason brought into my life is a budget. Yes, I used to manage my money just fine, but he took it to an entirely new level: my weekly budget for EVERYTHING is planned out in this really effin' cool Excel spreadsheet that includes a checkbook register and all y'all. Like for the rest of the damned year. Not even kidding.
Included in that budget is a $25 weekly "Personal" budget. *Sigh*. That was my Starbucks money y'all. *SIGH*. But I've given up Starbucks my precious angels. Aaargh!
What the deuce?!
Giving up Starbucks for me is like a bad break-up with a good man who just isn't "good for me." There were some really nice things about the relationship-but also some bad ones. You tasted soooo good Venti White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha with all of your whipped cream & sprinkly (now a word) goodness; but, what you did to my ass & my thighs...not cool. Not cool at all.
Like a sick & twisted domestic situation for me. I don't love you even though you're bad for me; I love you because you're bad for me.
I'm proud of myself for breaking it off; but I miss you. I miss your smell & your taste. I miss the way you lingered on my mouth for 30 minutes after you were gone. (Dear Lord, please forgive my pornagraphic attraction to coffee.)
But it's over now. It has to be. For the sake of all that's healthy. It's not you, it's me.
But alas, I am a wh0re for all things of the c. bean--so of course I'm in a rebound relationship until I can find something better. This little fling with my coffee pot and my store bought creamers is meeting a need, if you will, but it's not a forever kind of relationship. I'm still looking for that one perfect cup of low-fat, caffeine infused perfection. Some day I'll find it. I'm determined.
In the meantime--Starbucks--take care. And go ruin someone else's BMI. Love, Brandi
p.s. readers, do not suggest some healthy alternative to me. I swear I'll throw a heavy ass ceramic coffee mug right at your head. Not even kidding.
*Sidebar* In the midst of writing this, I promised my daughter we'd go to church tonight. My dear lord...I'm a hot mess. LOL!
3 comments:
Well, I was going to give you an idea...but I prefer not to have a heavy ass, ceramic, coffee mug sized dent in my pretty round cranium! K? I know what you mean though...I miss cake. Like I would open a vein for some RIGHT.NOW.
OH...and p.s. I always thought that BARISTA was such a DOUCHEY term! Just sayin...
(I <3 s-bucks too, so it's ok that I called it douchey!)
Don't you dare suggest some homemade soy/honey/green tea/protein concoction(sp). Cause I may be a squishy girl, but I swear to you that I'd hurl that mug to NJ so fast you wouldn't have time to say "jug-handle". Oh yeah, I know the NJ driving lingo. LOL! And yes, I do agree, that "Barista" sounds like the name of some douche canoe (yep, stole it & am not ashamed) that would steal your man right out from underneath you at the sade hawkins dance. ;-)
Someday, I'm going to open a coffee shop and those of us behind the counter are going to wear tags that say "Coffee C*@t" or "Latte Lizard" (wonder who will actually catch that one?)
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