So, the thing about Starbucks (or- as it is lovingly referred to in our home: St. Arbucks) is... it’s ADDICTIVE. I’ve never had issues with drugs or alcohol, but Starbucks? I’m frequently jonesing for my next latte. And it’s not just the caffeine either. I’d nearly sell my right arm for a decaf macchiato. It takes every ounce of self-control for me to not treat myself, like, every. day. When I DO cave (which is faaaaaairly frequently), I have to find a way to justify it cuz let’s be honest, it’s not cheap. So rather than JUST throw both kids in the car, go through the drive-through, selfishly buy myself a bevvy and return home, I think “this is Julie’s coffee ministry on wheels” and I buy one and deliver it to someone who I think might enjoy one ALMOST as much as me. (Almost). Trouble is, then I’m spending twice as much. But it’s still totally justifiable cuz it IS, after all, a ministry… right?
I think a possible solution here is that we need our own little latte/espresso machine. But THAT costs money too. So Lowell was like, “how about every time you want a Starbucks, you instead put that money towards a machine?” and I was all, “OR. Every time I want a Starbucks I could put that money towards a machine AND buy a Starbucks. (And also buy one for a friend)!” Do you see the potential for us becoming really super poor here?
I THINK in lattes. For example, I’ll be at the grocery store debating between brands or whether to purchase something or not, and I’ll be like, ‘okay, if I save one dollar here, that’s a fifth of a latte. We don’t need milk this week, that’s a whole latte. Score.’ Sick? Yes, sick.
It gets worse.
I’m currently on an unpaid mat leave, and finances are, well, tight. As we were discussing some cost cutting solutions, I thought, ‘I should tell Lowell that I will go one whole month sans Starbucks… gosh he’ll be so proud he’ll fall in love with me all over again!’ But I couldn’t do it. I COULD NOT UTTER THE WORDS ALOUD. It was just too painful.
I don’t spend money on shoes or alcohol or, like, scrapbooking supplies or anything. So that makes it okay right? RIGHT?! It’s like my THING. I definitely drink alone too, but there is nothing- nothing- better than a Starbucks and a friend... together. And for the record, Lowell is surprisingly supportive of this habit. A little more supportive when I’m actually, you know, bringing in cash… but supportive nonetheless.
And also. When we go by Starbucks, Fraser announces, “Doppee! Mommy’s doppee!” which is both beautiful and horrifying.
So there you have it. My kryptonite. The skeleton in my closet. My big huge embarrassingly ridiculous first world problem. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go. I’m jonesing…