I'm back on the juice again. I can't help it. For almost three years I was free of it. I didn't need it, I didn't want it, no longer even craved it. I never felt better. I had so much energy, it was great, liberating. I would wake up, and be fine. Feel awesome.
Then one day I took a little taste.
Mmmm, it tasted so good. It felt so good going into my body, running through my veins. I felt warm all over. From there, it was the occasional taste, not everyday, but just whenever there was some around me. Of course, I would never buy it for myself. We would only have some in the house because Hubby would occasionally buy it. He mostly got his fix when he was at work.
Then my mom was in town for one of her visits. It's tough when she's here. This is when I have to be my strongest. She's the pusher, pushing it in your face as soon as you wake up in the morning. "Here, have some. Nice and frrrrrrresh!" Rolling her "Rs" extra long, just for added emphasis.
That's right, she's Mexican. They basically grow that stuff in their backyards, or should I say, "courtyards" in Mexico.
Now you see my problem? It's in my blood. It's part of who I am.
Now this part is the worst part.
My mom introduced it to me when I was five years old. FIVE. YEARS. OLD! Every day she would give me some. EVERYDAY.
What kind of mother does that??!!!
No wonder my growth was stunted. NO. WONDER. It's her fault I have to hem my pants or buy my clothes in petite.
She buys her supply by the cases. She travels with my dad to these "medical conferences" and she triesthe local stuff.
HER: "Here, want some? Your Dad and I bought a case of it when we were in Louisiana for his medical conferrrence. It's soooo gooood."
Me: "No thanks, Mom, you know I don't use that stuff anymore. I don't need it, never felt better! (Lying)
HER: "Just try it, it's good!
Me: "No. Thanks!! I'm good.
I realized today though, that I have a problem. My S-I-L called me this morning and she was asking me all kinds of questions about our plans to meet up this Saturday and a trip to visit her and my brother in May.
Who's coming? What time? Where should we meet?
I hadn't had my morning hit yet and all her questions had me nervous. Couldn't remember my dates correctly. Couldn't even recommend a place for us to eat dinner.
It was sad, pathetic. Is this what I've become? An addict?
Am I to the point where I need it to even make sense of my thoughts??
Yes. I am. I need that cup of coffee. I need a strong cup. I need it to think, I need it to function. I need it to feel good.
People, help me.
PS: Don't forget our CUTE giveaway below!!
UPDATE: If you read this post earlier and it was full of typos, my apologies. That's what happens when you try to write a post without having your morning cup! I thought I spell checked it and to my horror, I didn't. YIKES! My mom also wanted to let everyone know that she didn't let me drink a full cup of "cafe" when I was five, only a "few sips." I guess the full cups started when I was six. *rolls eyes*