No one is perfect (and yes, that includes me)

This picture was taken during a particularly stressful day – a co-worker of mine, who saw my frustrations felt bad, so he did the one thing that he knew would make me happy (or in his words “less likely to snap and hurt someone”) – he went to buy me a coffee. What does this have to do with me not being perfect? Those of you who know me personally (or read my copious amounts of coffee tweets) know that i have a thing for coffee. It’s a comfort for me, the thing that i reach to when i am upset or stressed or angry (but funny enough, not tired), it has been there for me during the most difficult times of my life – was my morning comfort right before big exams, my drink of choice during hellish work days, and being completely honest, there was a time in my life that i am pretty sure it was all i consumed on some days. Coffee is my weakness – the thing that i turn to, even when i know it’s hurting me (think 3 pots, not 3 cups per day) but although i can logically admit that, stopping myself from drinking a ton of it when things get rough seems something just outside my reach.
People who personally know me, know that i am a perfectionist. I HATE being wrong, I HATE not succeeding at something, i HATE not being the absolute best that i can be (even if that is completely an unreasonable expectation). But the truth is, coffee will always be my turn to when i need comfort that i can’t find anywhere else.

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