I have a problem. The first step is admitting it.

Staggering through pelting rain and howling wind wearing my  high vis orange vest(!) and my meagre (but extremely pretty) pink-with-black-lace parasol threatening to turn inside out, I realised I had a problem.

(I can hear your audible 'duh')...

OK so rewind a bit...I should welcome myself back first. I've been AWOL for the past few weeks and I really have no excuse except I'm coming off the back of a few extremely crazy-busy weeks at work, I haven't been feeling too well, my beloved home has been put up for sale, I've been stressed, the War of the (now elephantine giant) Mouse continues and I'm all-around unmotivated, uninspired and just damned tired...

Whew. Too much information, yeah?

So if you're still reading and remotely concerned about which of the so-many-I've lost count myriadproblem I've been rudely alerted to this morning...

Have I built the drama successfully? Hey, I'm a bit rusty here, I haven't written for a while...

So as I mentioned, there I was, staggering through the pelting rain holding my umbrella with one hand and my dress in place with the other, lest I provide others with an even worse morning than even I was experiencing...

all part of my quest towards the coffee van.

Yes, the coffee van.

I know, you're feeling let down now aren't you?

So it was a comedy of errors really. Our main carpark is closed today as we've got cranes everywhere and work going on (in the pouring rain, the morons, think of the bad hair day they're having), so our coffee van had to park around the other side and of course the furtherest away from me as possible. So instead of sauntering down the dry, inside stairs to where the coffee van backs up practically inside so that my precious hair remains protected by rain, wind and snow, when the much-awaited 'coffee alert' went out, I had to trek through our big shed and warehouse, OUTSIDE through the first batch of rain and wind, to see no sign of the van that delivers my precious elixir.

So I retraced by steps, went through another building and finally caught sight of my nirvana...across a totally exposed and large expanse that (oh the horror) required high visibility (aka fluoro orange) vests to be worn.

So here was my dilemma: take the trek and

a) destroy my carefully straightened hair
b) get drenched
c) run the threat of getting my precious parasol broken
d) ruin my new shoes
e) wear fluoro orange(!)

in search of my coffee fix.

Or I could just, you know, not. Forego the bad hair day, the clothing that to this minute still feels damp and really quite unpleasant (what a day to pull out the tights for the first time this year), not run the risk of flashing my work colleagues (although I've already done that but that is an entirely different story, and hopefully one that will be expunged from mine and everyone else's memory, like, forever) and worse, being seen in public in fluoro orange.

Well you know which option I took.

I really have a problem.

You see, when my friends got a new coffee machine and I wrote on Facebook to 'fill up the sink and I'll be over to stick my head in it' everyone thought I was kidding. Even I thought I was kidding.

Sort of.

But I can no longer live in denial. I must admit the truth.

So I'm Bec, and I'm a coffee addict. Like the worst kind.

I can't me live without my caffeine fix, that's the honest truth.

But what to do?

I thought of days, months, years and decades stretched ahead of me when I could laugh at the coffee alert and all the zombies who immediately jump up to line up for their cup. I thought of not being woken up in the morning by #1 son with my travel mug filled to the brim with freshly brewed cofee. Of not being enslaved to this substance that let's face it, rules my life.

And then I thought...screw it.

Would life be worth living without enjoying a lovely latte? Priorities.

Hope you're having a lovely Monday with much better hair than me.

Bec xx