It's all coffee's fault. It's so luscious and warm. It makes me do things I shouldn't. Bad, naughty things.
I remember the first time I tasted the dark, nutty flavor of my favorite beverage with striking exactness. I was 12 years old and at my grandmother's wake. In need of something to occupy my mind, I snuck over to the dingy funeral parlor kitchen and poured myself a steaming cup of coffee out of a giant pecolator. After adding a gallon of half and half and 16 packs of sugar to my java, I had my first sip. It was love. Or a caffeinated sugar high. But either way, it was amazing.
Ever since then, I've been hooked. I became a regular coffee drinker at 16, and now I get horrible, there-must-be-a-nail-in-my-brain headaches if I don't have at least a cup.
It's a bad situation, which brings me to my point.
My addiction to coffee has caused me to use plastic several times over the past few months. Specifically, I've gone to Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks without my travel mug and gotten plastic lids.
Arg! I know I could have avoided those plastic lids, but I'm so weak. Coffee is evil, but yet so heavenly.
Coffee, why must you make me do bad things? Why?!?!?!