The proof is in the coffee

Most every day my darling hubby goes to our local Second Cup to buy us a coffee before he goes to work. In exchange, I make him a deliciously healthy smoothie du jour. It's a good arrangement. We've gone around and back and forth about making coffee vs. buying coffee, but here's the truth: we'd rather drink one amazing large cup of dark roast than make several of our own, which never tastes as good no matter how hard we try.

And this is how important a good cup of coffee is to me: this morning's cup was not dark roast black as per usual. It was medium roast. I could taste the sourness even before the sip hit my tongue. I added more almond milk, but to no avail. I took maybe one more sip.

Rather than let this turn what I need to be a productive and positive day into a meh kind of day (good coffee can do this, I promise) I got in my car, with my slippers on, makeupless and barely dressed, to get myself a large dark roast. I even walked in because there were cars in the drive-thru.

Life is better when I do what makes me happy.