Oh, Starbucks, you tantalizing wench, just when I think I’m free of your charms, you find another way to tempt me.

I had a Caramel Mocha tonight. I left my room in a sugar-withdrawal frenzy and hurried to the absolute nearest *$ franchise. (I have mentioned before how densely Starbucksed my neighbourhood is, I know. I would much rather go to a quality local-owned business, but that’s not what’s in my Indigo.) Anyway, the beverage: Caramel. Mocha. With whipped cream and caramel on top. I had seen the signs advertising this latest sugar=packed abomination and it had been dismissed as being way too sweet. Tonight though, it was all I wanted.
And, oh, so good. The coffee was really just background for the (delicious) intermingling of the chocolate and caramel flavours. It was so rich. It was like liquid luxury.

Ironically, I just finished watching Super Size Me.

But I’m also writing an essay about the narrative and expository strategies of aforementioned in two days (today and tomorrow, to be handed in on Tuesday afternoon) so whatever gets me through.

I don’t want to think about how many grams of fat and/or calories it has. Maybe I’ll eat the orange Alex left me.