Wednesday, January 5, 2011

"Virtue Itself Turns Vice, Being Misapplied..."

HRH decided that 4:30 or so (it was too early to actually read the clock) was a good time to get up.  We both tried to get her back to sleep (I kicked Scott to get up so I wouldn't have to), but alas, the efforts were fruitless, and by the time I got up for the third time (I think - it's hard to count when woken from a dead sleep) and brought her, in a desperate attempt for more sleep, back to bed with us, it was all over.  She YELLED, "Downstairs!"
Thank goodness for coffee (in my stupor I decided to write an ode to it, but I haven't gotten there yet).
I don't like my coffee black.  Even being from the Pacific Northwest, home to not only that large corporate chain of coffee shops but a plethora of local bean roasters long before it was cool elsewhere, doesn't make that little brown bean any more tasty unless I add my morning dose of non-dairy, artificially flavored coffee creamer.
It HAS TO BE Coffee-Mate®.  And it HAS TO BE French vanilla flavor.  I've tried other flavors, but I always go back to my blue box (yes, we get the "Coffee Lover's Size," although I think it would be more properly titled "Coffee-Mate Lover's Size" at the rate I go through it... thank you, Costco) of carageenan-filled goodness.
Try as I might, I can't give this up.  I haven't actually given it the ol' college try, but I have to say that I don't want to.  I made the decision last year to stop drinking Dr. Pepper (I've fallen off the wagon a few times but have regretted it on each instance).  I have made myself overwhelmingly proud in my new-found ability to turn down second helpings.  But my morning cup of joe and creamer?  Take that from me, and I will cut you.
Here's how I look at it - would my husband rather me consume coffee creamer or heroin?  I cut myself off after two or three cups, depending on the morning, and that's it for the day.  I doubt that would happen were I to start shooting up.
Everyone has vices, and I'd rather it be a few slurps of Coffee-Mate® than something that could be much, much worse.  Call me crazy; call me weak; call me nutters - this is one resolution that you'll never see on my list.

The haze is how I saw it this morning sometime between 4:30 and 6:00 and not just because I didn't have my glasses on.


  1. Well, when I run out of my current bottle of glorious vanilla caramel creamer, then I'll be experimenting with homemade creamer. Hopefully I'll perfect the recipe in time to make you some when I'm down there in March. (Fingers crossed that it isn't all the "extras" in the creamer that make it soooo darn good!)

  2. If you are able to do that, I will be FOREVER in your debt!
    My fingers are likewise crossed.