Starbucks, the sads, and the science

I am not an experienced coffee drinker as evidenced by the fact that I habitually get my order mixed up at Starbucks and hold up the line while I try to make sense of the situation.

“Um….I’ll take a caramel coffee iced venti. Make that a coffee iced venti caramel. Nope. Iced coffee caramel venti. Not that either. One more time. Grande caramel iced coffee – vento, extra caramel, please.”

And on and on it goes until the collective sigh behind me and the foot tapping start to take on a more ominous tone. When the eye shanking threatens to give way to some next level realness, I know it’s time to take a seat.

“Iced tea, black, unsweetened. Big. Thanks.”

Man, I am always up for a Bloodsport style rumble in the concrete jungle, but not when it’s against people who haven’t had their morning coffee fix. People are crazy for them beans. I get it (see previous post regarding my unholy relationship with devil dog cake).

Life was simpler (not really) when I was much more cavalier about my spending habits and the words “iced caramel macchiato” and “spinach feta wrap” rolled off my tongue like the lyrics to the National Anthem.  

If the whole iced coffee order would just work out at least once, it would indicate that I'm a reformed spender, especially since my new breakfast of choice is air and it's pretty much free. Not that I needed to pick up any more bad habits with the whole coffee attempt anyway, but sometimes I just need  a little boost (yeah, yeah I know – “Try exercise!”, you say. “Your face”, says me). 

I’ve been so out of it lately that twice in the last few weeks I’ve gotten lost on the way to places I frequent on a ridiculous basis. Places that I would marry if I could.

So my 2 mile road trip…after pointing my vehicle in the direction of the North Star, I eventually found the mothership and walked in with a mental checklist – apples, chewy bars, pads, water, apples, chewy bars, pads, water, apples, chewy bars, pads, water – and left with apples, chewy bars, pads, water, Pringles, flip flops, computer paper, candle warmer wax thingies, hummus, and more wedding magazines. Sonofabitch! Damn you, memory - I forgot to remember that I was a reformed spender. Shady Pines, here I come.  

                       Thank you for being a friend.

No. The thing is…I’ve been sad. And this sadness...in that particular space at the back of my heart where it always resides - sometimes it’s quiet and sometimes it’s not. Sometimes I can control it. Sometimes I cannot. I have my coping mechanisms, my defenses, my ways of working through it, my best laid plans… I was never so foolish as to believe that a wedding would take that sadness away, but I did almost trick myself into thinking I would be too distracted with planning to focus on anything else.  

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting the past few days.

• “When I had my old job I could buy all of the things in the whole world” (and I must have because…damn, my savings tho)

• “When I had my old job I could spend $25 on lunch without my ass breaking out into a cold, cold sweat” (Really? Really I spent this much on lunch for myself?!?)

•  “When I had my old job I never researched how much money I could make donating my body for various scientific trials” (Ok, maybe this one isn’t completely true. I once read an article about someone having their big toe cut off and reattached for $10,000. $10,000! I have two big toes. Let’s do this! )

• “When I had my old job I could travel all over the world on a moment’s notice” (and boy, did we ever. Nate and I once did London in 72 hours)

and then there's this...

• “When I had my old job I still had her” (ah, this is the one that kills me).

And suddenly all of that stuff about having money and taking time off whenever I wanted and trekking all across the globe becomes trivial.

Because I still had her and the idea of her and her future and the possibilities…and everything. Just everything.

It’s strange always having one foot stuck in the before and one in the after – two crooked halves of a life gone completely off the rails in just a moment’s notice…a life that I’m still doing my best to live in her honor. Before, after. Before, after. One foot in front of the other.

It’s taken some time, but I’ve learned it’s ok to have these bad days, to not feel guilty if I have a fleeting bad thought about someone else’s success or good fortune, to stomp my feet and say “IT’S. NOT. FAIR!” (because it isn’t, really. It just isn’t). I’m only human. And I don’t stay long in that place anyway because it’s dark and it’s ugly, and it’s mean, and that’s not who I am  or who I want to be.

But I allow myself to feel what I’m feeling in that very moment and I don’t judge myself too harshly for it anymore.

Because the occasional coffee? It could be a lot worse... I could be addicted to selling my body for a quick buck (FOR SCIENCE, people, for science only). 

Hmm…ten fingers and ten toes, you say? That's a lot of thousands. 

Love, Light, and Ligaya - CS