Bummer

While I wouldn't describe myself as clinically depressed, most of this winter has seen Babydoll in general malaise. I've heard people attribute these kinds of feelings to the waning light of winter and all - and since this is the second winter I've struggled, I decided to look it up. It's referred to as Seasonal Affective Disorder. 

My apologies for the ugly link.  I'm sure it's Blogger 101 to know How To Make A Pretty Link - but, whatever: 

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0002499/

Yes, the acronym really is SAD. Irony much? Of course, there have been all kinds of upheaval and sadness for me this last week - which I won't go into detail about, anonymous site or not...but none of it has helped the SAD. 

Last night found me pretty overwhelmed and desperate. After dropping Boy and Girl Doll off for club basketball, I had two hours to kill. I searched for a 12-Step meeting on my phone and aside from a meeting across town at 6:00pm that I was already late for, there was nothing until 8 o'clock. I didn't feel like doing anything rash, but I will be honest: I did reflect momentarily on the sense of ease and comfort that the first drink would bring. If I could have done it with impunity, last night would have been the night for a glass of wine. 

In truth, I've never really had a glass of wine. I tasted it a few times before I got sober but never the romantic, paired-with-food adult version. However, I hold no illusions. I know that none of that matters for a girl like me. A person that drinks Japanese cooking wine or Creme de Menthe doesn't give a shit about things like 'oak and citrus notes' or '...finishes on the palette like butter'. One drink is too many and a thousand is never enough. So I decided to get a cup of coffee. 

I know what your thinking: Coffee?! And at night! Scandalous! 

Here's the other shoe: I don't drink caffeinated beverages, either. Yeah. The blood bank calls me regularly and begs for my blood. The Holy Grail of O+ flows through my drug, alcohol, caffeine and sugar-free veins. It just doesn't get any purer than up in here.

I drove to the nearest coffee house to indulge, and threw caution completely out the window by also ordering pumpkin bread. I know, right?! I was barely able to hold my tears back while paying for my snacks. I couldn't wait to get out to my car, so I could cry quietly alone and feel sorry for myself...while huffing down my pumpkin bread and coffee. 

I made my way out in the rain to my car, got in and sat silently for a few minutes before taking my first sip of crack coffee. Bitter, watery and scorched...it was the worst cup of coffee I've ever had.

WHAT THE FUCK, STARBUCKS? 

Partial story-line credit goes to The Mom of Big Dogs. You rule!