The Lows to Which an Addict Will Stoop

[If you don't know by now many of my posts are lighthearted some tounge in cheek and at times educational. This one is meant to be funny, so please proceed with that in mind. ]

Let's face it, Seattlites love coffee. Every morning I can't help but earnestly seek out some java. Iced or hot, sweet or bitter, strong or really strong. Admittedly, sometimes it is my motivation to crawl into bed at an early hour, so the morning comes a little sooner. There are times where I plan out my whole day on what coffee shop I hope to sip a piping hot latte from.

You can take a coffee-addicted Pacific Northwesterner out of the Pacific but you can't shake the addict out. The addict will adapt, like the eyes of a night owl to the darkness, to find the grounds for that cuppa' jo. Even when traveling, he or she will sense just how to aquire the rich liquid within mere hours of being relocated.

Yet when coffee isn't so cost effective at the new place of residence, what's one to do? Give it up right? Yes! ...if you have the self-control to do so this would be a very logical choice. Or you could go with option numero dos and opt for some Nescafe. That's right, I said it, Nescafe. Please find it in your heart fellow coffee snobs to forgive me this ill. It's either a cup of these sharp instant grounds or weeks of zombie mornings, hellish headaches, and a blurry mind.

The following is my love letter to Nescafe. Yup, that's right.

To my dearest Nescafe:
Nescafe you are the low to which this addict will stoop. Your darkened goodness and bitter taste are welcomed allies of my morning battle. Hot or cold, only Katy Perry distains, but for you my heart will remain. Please see me through.
So much love, Nikki