Addiction

I can't help it. I love it. I adore it, if I was a crack head, it would be my crack. If I was a teacher, it would be my lesson book, if I was a lawyer, it would be my quick comeback and sharp smile. I think about it all the time, I repeat its name whenever I can. I don't care how expensive it is, it's worth every penny. I don't care that its family is going down the tubes. Sometimes I find myself waking up in the middle of the night wondering if it is ok to go visit my dear friend. I'll whisper its name in the hopes that it will soon appear...venti-no-foam-two-equal-latte. I soon realize that it wasn't meant to be, but comfort myself with the simple phrase, "soon my friend, very soon."

In the office, I find myself looking at people, evaluating them, wondering if they are as good as you-know-what. I can almost feel the warmth that comes from its fresh, smooth and rich body. No one is as good as my venti-no-foam-two-equal-latte, no one. My favorite daily memory is when I arrive first thing in the morning to pick it up for work, and my friends in green immediately know who I'm there to see. They acknowledge my presence with a wink and prepare it for the day's adventures. I just can't do anything without my friend by my side, keeping my hand comfortably warm as we leave its home. Now my day can begin...