I think I may have.. a Problem.

Man Oh man Oh manoman. So, my mom's always been worried about me becoming an addict. Or maybe it's just an alcoholic. I think this is the type of thing moms worry about, especially with a) family history* and b) university. University students drink a lot, even by my standards. And I have to admit, I drank a wee fair few drams in my time. Thing is, it was never going to turn into an addiction because i) it's far too expensive when you only like imported beer and ii) I could never muster up the motivation to deal with hangovers more than once a week. If that.

However.

I seem to be an addict. And it's the worst, most insidious type. It's socially acceptable, nay, it's socially encouraged! That's right. I worship the bean. I crave the caffeine. I get juiced on the Java.

I think the problem can be traced back to Starbucks. I know, all my American friends are like:"blah blah Starbucks are the Antichrist blah blah exploitative blah". But they know nothing. the Bucks have succoured my emotional well-being on many an occasion. Oh, caramel latte, how I beseech thee, prithee cure my ills**.

In any case, I am now experiencing full-blown signs of addiction. I Jones for coffee. If i don't get my morning cup, I get a headache- which disappears the minute I have some. I'm cranky, bitchy, and emotional without my fix. My skin freakin' hurts! well, i imagine it does, which amounts to the same thing.

you know what the sign of a true addict is? chocolate-coved coffee beans. If you eat an entire packet in one sitting, you should reconsider your life.

* "omigod Bet! are you sharing personal information on your blog?" I am. sort of. I can't be secretive all the time, you know.
**fuckit, even I don't get my sense of humour sometimes.