“Do you want a coffee?” That’s what my friend Sarina said to me as I was crying in her living room yesterday. I had come over to her house after driving home from a teary eyed conversation in a Chick-Fil-A parking lot. Long story short, I am very, very, sad. 

I took her up on the offer. I don’t really know what I drank, but it was good. It was something in a can. I’ll have to ask her what it was.

I got three more offers on getting coffee that day. I only had the one, but I think I scheduled multiple coffee dates with my friends. I woke up this morning to a Venmo payment with the note of “coffee + a cake pop.” The general solution to me being sad was buying me a coffee. The people in my life who I came to in tears answered my sorrow with something they knew would cheer me up. A good cup of coffee.

My life these past few days has been full of finding joy in the little things. In all transparency, right now if I bought myself a coffee and it was bad, it would not end well. I would more than likely just sob in my car like a maniac for a solid half hour. And then my coffee would be lukewarm and bad. 

Life is weird. One morning, you’re drinking mediocre coffee in an Eat N Park with the person you have planned your whole life around being with, and the next you’re going through a Starbucks drive thru with tears streaming down your face, buying a comfort coffee and a cake pop you won’t have the appetite to eat. 

It is going to get better, and I will go back to making my own coffee every morning. And if it’s bad, it won’t be the end of the world. The day is going to come where taking a sip of a far-too-bitter coffee will be the worst thing that happens instead than being the cherry on top of the sadness sundae. 

I am sorry this week’s blog is so sad. I’ll try to be less depresso and more espresso next time.