Slave to Fashion

I’m sure I’ve mentioned it in past posts, but I’m not much of a coffee drinker. Like some who get blitzed and have the “social cigarette,” the only time I willfully drink coffee is when I’m hammered. I can count the last three instances I’ve willingly (so-to-speak) drank coffee:

  • At the end of Cam’s brother’s wedding
  • After drinking two margaritas at Momocho last year
  • A half-cup of sludge at the office a few weeks ago (people drink coffee sober? ech.)

I’ve also tried tea, but I find that drinking it really makes my tongue feel funny. Like a paste. So, in the mornings, I stick with my Diet Coke: I like the flavor, and it has the caffeine boost I’m looking for.

But, despite knowing my strengths, I still have one weakness (hey, I’m not made of stone here): coffee tumblers.

I love them, I can’t get enough of them. I love some of their sleek designs, I love their cache. But, I’m not going to start drinking coffee to carry around the tumbler.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not above putting my Diet Coke in a coffee tumbler and taking it in to work with me.

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