I’m consuming my life, and it tastes so good.

This week, for no reason at all, I decided to give up my morning cup of coffee. Brilliant. I mean, what better time to choose to arbitrarily remove an addictive stimulant from my life, when I’m already dealing with dark thoughts and periods of anxiety? Why the hell not! Something to do, right?

Yeah, not gonna happen. ("Guess I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.") I realized this morning how ridiculous it is. I mean, why the fuck would I feel, all of a sudden, that it’s necessary to pry this particular monkey off my back? No other reason than self deprivation. Self flagellation. “You’re addicted, you pathetic weakling! Get off it. Now.” Whatever. I mean, come on. There are worse addictions. And the jury’s out on whether this one even has any negative consequences. So I’ll have my one cup a day, thank you very much. And I’ll enjoy it. And my god, this morning’s cup was in-fucking-credible.

Speaking of which, can anyone explain to me why it seems there’s a Starbucks on every goddamn corner, except for when you’re stumbling around like some nasty cracked out 'ho searching for her dealer pimp daddy? Thanks.