After a late night celebrating my friend’s 25th brithday last night (drinks on a rooftop!) I awoke slightly fuzzy with my jar of peanut butter next to my head which can only mean one thing–someone had a few too many cocktails for her own good.
As a Splenda stealer, the first thought that popped into my head was–great–way to waste pb that could have been used for a sandwich today–gotta think of rising grocery prices!–and then the next was–must go to gym later.
But it got me thinking about all the little annoying thoughts about my financial situation that fly in and out of my head all day. This morning for example, when I’m a bit “fuzzy,” my body craves for flavored beverages. I don’t do water. Water makes me nauseous.
After I bolt out of Port Authority to make my daily trek across 40th street, the little voices start going off in my head:
you need diet coke asap
you need coffee asap
where should you go for the coffee? the cheapest or better tasting?
you still have some coffee in the office, maybe you should just save the dollar fifty, or maybe that cinnamon coffee at Cafe Charlie’s would be perfect for right now
maybe buy vitamin water? do you want the calories? nah if you’re going
to spent $$ get coffee, maybe get both, no gotta save save save
I end up getting that cinnamon coffee which is sooooo good. I cringe at spending $1.50 for coffee, but prices in Midtown aren’t cheap! When I started my job a year ago, Cafe Metro charged $1.30 for a medium. Then three months in it went to $1.60. The other day I went in and now it’s $1.72!! Really?? Old Bridge Deli across the street is $1.50, used to be $1. And then the Dunkin’ Donuts next door is astronomical for a cup.
This little rant plays like clockwork every time I step off of the bus to go to work. Everyday.
The worst part of it all was that Cafe Charlie didn’t even have Splenda!! I had to take extra Sweet and Low. Ick ick ick. I stole six.
And the lady put a “Paid Thank You” sticker on my cup as an extra reminder of where my money goes.
This is another reason why I don’t like to keep cash on me. It goes too fast.
Confessions Of A Splenda Stealer 