Crying over spilled mocha.

I did not have money to go to Starbucks this morning.  I don’t most mornings, but some people are able to, and I like to pretend I’m one of them every once in a while.  This is the case especially on mornings like this when I have to come in early for a 7:30am phone call to a nice lady from a Kentucky county’s Board of Education.

I just thought I could use a little treat, especially since I needed the caffeine—I’ve probably gotten about ten hours sleep, total, since Sunday night.  How do I afford my rock and roll lifestyle?  I don’t.  I’m just doing the best I can, here, folks.

I had $6 and some change in my wallet.  With that and some more change from my little ashtray compartment in my car, I scraped together $7.21 for a breakfast sandwich—which, surprisingly, are pretty good, though I was adamantly opposed to them at first—and a grande nonfat, no-whip mocha.

It was the mocha that I really wanted.  I just knew it didn’t need to hit an empty stomach by itself.

I cannot stress enough how much I know I shouldn’t have spent the last of my cash for the week (Friday is payday) on Starbucks.  But you gotta eat breakfast.  And I really wanted that mocha.

In the left turn from 24th onto Acklen, it was driven home very nauseatingly just how neglectful I’d been in replacing the cupholder that disappeared this past week.  Without it, the little circular indention I’d placed said mocha in just didn’t have the ability to enclose and protect its precious cargo.

The cargo that emptied itself completely—devastatingly—onto my passenger side floor mat.

The floor mat that is now lying on the ground, probably souring, out in the parking lot beside my car.

I shouldn’t have spent the money on the mocha.  I was going to enjoy it, though, without guilt.  I was going to nurse it all morning, probably–the nurturing dark chocolate, the seductive espresso roast, both of which I so needed.  So craved.

I would probably have even sighed and stared into the distance contentedly at some point.

The breakfast sandwich was good.  It would have been better washed down with a mocha.

I’m going to get over this now.  (Hold me.)

UPDATE, 12:30pm:  Our Big Corporate Dude We Report To graced us with his presence today.  Along with him brought he cupcakes.  It wasn’t a mocha, but the gingerbread one was pretty fantastic, and I will go ahead and consider it a serendipitous override.