Chanda’s Story

Here’s my story:

 

I don’t love coffee, but I majorly flirt with it.

 

It all started so innocently:  holding meetings at the coffee shop…a latte here, a mocha there…realizing that more calcium was needed as a nursing mom, so went with lattes…yes, please, extra foam AND whip…realizing that I can just drive through and get my latte without even leaving the comfort of my car…realizing that I love the easy banter with the baristas—and everybody knows my drink name and are always glad I came…

 

Realizing I had spent almost a quarter of last year’s income on LATTES.

 

Yes.  That’s insane.  But as a mostly stay-at-home mama/non-profit arts person/freelancer, I’m not exactly rolling in cash.

 

There’s nothing wrong with lattes.  There’s nothing wrong with a daily caffeine buzz.  Some would argue there’s nothing really wrong with Coffee Chains That Proliferate on Every Corner, but I really want to keep my Portland street cred.  The fact that my three year old daughter can point out every Starbucks on our way to errands is kind of funny, actually.

 

The point is there’s nothing morally wrong with my daily latte.

 

But it has become a DAILY LATTE.

And I really can’t justify it.  At (average) $3 per latte, (average) 4 per week, 16 per month…192 per year…not to mention all the insanely huge scones and muffinage that often accompany the beverage…I realized that I’ve spent over $600 on lattes this past year.  Why?  Because I average 5 hours of sleep, and often need the pick-me-up in the late afternoon to keep going.

 

This former do-gooder Junior Miss was restless.  Wasn’t I supposed to change the world?  Does that just mean I recycle (mostly) all the take-out latte cups??

 

I decided to pick one cause…pick my battles…pick up drycleaning…pick up Legos…and to try to go to bed sooner so I don’t NEEEEEEEEED caffeine to get through my day.

 

So I’m saving my lattes for another day, and hopefully turning these un-drunk cups of foamy goodness into saving lattes:  the means by which young girls thousands of miles away will be saved from a life of unspeakable horror.

 

Wish me luck; and I’ll see you next Friday.