I've had an on again, off again relationship with coffee for so long now that I don't even really remember just when or how it all started. I do know that our friendship/relationship (if that's what you want to call it) had somewhat of a rocky start, sometimes I was in the mood...other times...yeah, not so much. As the years passed coffee and I became more than just friends, it turned into love, real love, thus began, this beautiful, crazy, weird, needy, obsessed relationship with coffee. I know that I need help, seriously, I should probably see a counselor, have some therapy for my addiction to this sweet, delicious tasting concoction called coffee, really I should, after all I am married, I have three crumb crunchers and loads of responsibilities to do each and everyday. I am so addicted to coffee that my own children(the poor souls) know that it's best not to talk to mommy in the morning until she (that would be moi) has had a cup of coffee, you see, I have trained my children (the whole train up a child in the way he should go, bible lingo, is really being practiced here.) that no one has a meltdown, whines, yells, complains or fights until I have had a cup of coffee, all I really need is just one sip. Just the aroma that coffee gives is so uplifting. It makes me feel marvelous. One sip of this sweet perfection and I feel as though I have found a little piece of heaven here on earth. I feel all warm and toasty inside, it's erratic, maniacal, unbalanced, yes, I know all this, but do I care what others think of me and my affection,(addiction) to coffee...NO!, not really, I mean, I see myself spiraling out of control and I don't really care to fix it.
I turned forty this past spring, me, 40 years old! I tried all year long to ignore my age. It's so depressing this new phase of my life. I am no longer referred to as miss, girl or young lady I am now Mrs. or Mam. Now, I simply ignore those people who have decided to put me in this category, the clerks, salespeople, baggers (at least the young cute one's) at the grocery store, my nail girl (for this she gets no referrals from me!, this is my way of getting her back for calling out in the salon...oh, mam... you forgot your keys, really is that necessary!) ect... and anyone else who has deemed me old! No, I don't desire to be a kid or a teenager ever again, although I had the time of my life with no responsibilities and parents who pretty much gave us all that we desired or wished for (this, I am not passing on to my children.), I like being an adult. I just don't like that I'm getting older, I don't like that my face cream is no longer for women who are 40(acco
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