Coffee Talk

by Crystalwizard

One more cup of coffee for courage, then I need to leave to do something I am dreading. See, today is when I start my diet. It’s also the first day after all the holiday candy goes on sale. And I have to go to the... grocery store.

All those little bags of chocolate goodness, those candy canes, those boxes of divinity sitting there, abandoned, forgotten, in need of love and a home. All of them wailing in dispair every time I come near them. And those wonderful, delectable, special-order tins of peppermint-flavored hot chocolate with itty-bitty marshmallows just begging to be sipped on a cold evening beside the fire.

I don’t have any choice, however; I’m out of cat food, and a cat without cat food is a disaster waiting to happen. You haven’t lived till you wake up with a cat’s rear in your face, claws digging into your chest, and yowling echoing off your bedroom walls. I will NEVER survive!

My coffee, decorated with a fancy little heart, doesn’t care. I stare at it, I debate stirring it, I think about all the work the barrista put into it. I sigh. But I need the caffeine.

Okay, so maybe I don’t “need” the caffeine, but I want it. I have to move so rapidly through the market that I won’t hear the pleas, the wailing, the anguish. So fast that I don’t “accidentally” turn down the wrong aisle and come face to face with disaster.

I pick up the coffee, close my eyes against the distruction of artwork, and down it.
Ouch!
I forgot it was hot.
Onward! Into the fray!
Wish me luck.