Dammit! I Cheated with Lemonade!

No Shopping Day Eight

It had been a long day. I’d turned in an article by 8am, a second by 10, showered, dropped my brother’s dog at the Pooch Hotel for the day, then took a train and two subways into Brooklyn to record Love Bites. On the way back to the subway, a coffee shop sign proclaimed “We have fresh squeezed strawberry lemonade!” 

I LOVE lemonade! And for some reason I’ve been actually craving it specifically since I got home from Spain (maybe my blood sugar levels are off?).

I was tired. I had two subways, a train, and pooch picking up on the docket, still, before dinner and Gilmore girls (don’t judge) and bed. And so I spent $4 on a large disposable cup of tart deliciousness, which Ben and I sipped together as we trekked back into Manhattan.

But then, as we hugged in preparation for his leaving the station and my continued commute, talk of my proud library book possession prompted his, “Wait, aren’t you cheating with the lemonade?!?”

Shit. I hadn’t even questioned the essential value of the purchase.

But when life gives you lemonade… You have to finish drinking it, right?


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