Okay. I understand that the people who gave me Starbucks giftcards for the holidays were just trying to be nice. They were looking out for me. They were trying to indulge me. They were being thoughtful. They were not intentionally trying to undermine me.

Starbucks is one giant corporate business that I've been able to successfully avoid most of the time, and this is no small feat considering the number of Starbucks in NYC, and particularly, near where I work, dangerously close to the famous twin Starbucks of Astor Place. But I've done it. There really are a million indie coffee shops around here too, often in the shadow of a Starbucks, and you usually don't even have to search for one. And they are so much nicer and happier. And more noble. There's a Starbucks in the lower level of my office building, and after working here for a year and a half I had set foot inside only once, and it was to use the bathroom.

It's because of the mere $25 that made up those Starbucks giftcards that I discovered the cinammon dolce latte at all. And now I'm fucked. The gift cards ran out a few weeks ago, and now I'm stuck making excuses about why I need a $5 corporate coffee drink that comes in a cup with too cute philosophical musings printed on the side. I hate hate hate them for making a drink this delicious. I am ashamed. I need to detox (from Starbucks, not from coffee. Please). And I need to do it the serious way. I need to stop buying my morning coffee from the very nice guys at Coffee Master too, buy a new travel mug that isn't crusty and gross, and start making coffee at home like I used to do before I got lazy beyond words, back when I used to get to work within ten minutes of when I was supposed to.

So thank you, gift givers. Thank you for revealing me to be an unprincipled sucker. Now i'm going to go cry into my bourgie coffee, emblazoned with "The Way I See It" #76. Happy fucking Valentine's Day.