Another cold day in the office. Cold enough to drive me to flee to Starbucks for a Venti Caramel Macchiato.
Starbucks and I are in an abusive relationship.
I haven't been drinking coffee for some time now. The caffeine was disagreeing with my stomach, and my penchant for the polysyllabic drinks filled with sugar and dairy definitely played a part in the 30+ pound weight gain while in Seattle.
But this morning, I was too cold to care about the ill effects I might have to suffer. Hot frothy goodness was calling to me. There was no fighting it's siren song; my strength had been sapped from trying to stay warm for the past several hours.
(Sidenote: Ladies, have you ever noticed that when you are cold, it always seems to be your hands and feet that are the coldest? Now I know you are thinking, "Duh, those are like, almost the only parts that aren't covered." You are now also wondering why I made you all sound like dumb valley girls. The point is, scientists believe that the female body is wired to send all the heat available in the body to the midsection, to protect the womb. This is why when I stick my cold feet on my husband's side of the bed he yells at my stomach "There is no baby!!" Also, he is crazy.)
Here I sit, stomach feeling a little uneasy, reminding me why I stopped drinking these things in the first place. The venti cup stands high, proud; he knows that he has won today. I tell him that I don't want to see him ever again. He casts a smug glance in my direction, insulating sleeve pulled high, because he knows I won't leave for long. The weather will turn cold again, or an early morning will catch up with me. And he will be waiting.
With whipped cream on top.
Listening to: Eternal Flame by The Bangles (hot!)
Mood: Totally 80's. An era when you didn't have to actually know how to dance to anything. You just moved.