Off the wagon

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*



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