Do you remember when I talked about how much I love coffee mugs?
Then remember when I finally admitted I had a problem, broke bad and cleared out my coffee mug collection because I had completely run out of space? (I even threw some of them away. GASP!)
Remember when I said I was cured of my addiction and I had stopped buying coffee mugs forever?
That was such an exciting time, full of hope and promise. A time when I felt that anything was possible. Anything — even neat, organized, not-overflowing cabinets.
But I fell off the wagon.
It started out like any other day in Walmart. I was combing the store in search of buttons, when I happened down a weirdly placed seasonal aisle. And… it called to me.
I was (briskly) walking, minding my own business, and not looking when it whispered to me, ever so quietly: Look at me. Look at me!
It couldn’t hurt just to look, right? There’s no harm in looking.
I slowed my gait so little it would’ve hardly been noticeable to the naked eye, but it was just enough. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of that adorable little white stoneware owl. Whispering. Beckoning. Pleading. Pick me up. Pick me up!
The strength I have shown in the last 9.75 months in not looking at, not holding, and not purchasing new coffee mugs is unprecedented, and I knew with that track record I could easily handle picking it up… holding it… just for a moment.
And then, those eyes.
Take me home, they said. Take me home!
My friends, we all know how this story ends. It feels like fall outside, and I love owls so much. I needed that mug. A person can only exercise so much restraint, you know?
But I have since regained my faculties and now I’m back. Really, I am.
Here’s to climbing on the wagon again!
*raises adorable white stoneware owl full of coffee into the air for a toast*
