My affection for coffee started when I was probably eight years old. My Grandparents are avid coffee drinks (wine, too) and they are responsible for introducing me to the delicious world of both coffee and wine. Wine at a slightly older age. Slightly. 🙂 I’m only kidding.
It was around driving age, sixteen-ish to be exact, there hasn’t been a morning that began without coffee. Coffee = the starter to mornings. Coffee wakes me up. Coffee makes me happy. Coffee smells good. Coffee warms my soul. Hot. Cold. But I prefer cold lattes. I like whipcream and drizzles, too.
So here is where the “big dreams” part comes in. I’ve always dreamed of owning my own coffee bar/lounge. But HOW do you compete with the delicious Starbucks monster?! Simple solution. You don’t. You don’t try to beat them. You join them.
You see, my husband was sweet enough to buy me a Nepresso machine for our home in effort of decreasing my Starbucks run. Fail. Don’t get me wrong, the Nespresso machine is PHENOMENAL for espresso/lattes made at home but let’s get for real. You need syrups. Fine. Go buy the syrups from Starbucks. As you know, my favorite Starbucks drink is a Venti Iced Salted Caramel Mocha. So what’s that matter? Well, honey, it matters most. Starbucks doesn’t sell their “mocha” syrup because it’s made fresh every morning. So what’s a gal to do? Drink two lattes per day. One made at home and one from Starbucks.
Tying the big goal to the small budget part. Bear with me here. So my husband and I were discussing my dream/goal to one day own a coffee shop this morning when he blurted out “let’s just look into franchising a Starbucks.” Oh. My. Gosh. That was beyond music to my ears. Literally, that is the most brilliant statement, comment, idea, recommendation, whatever that he’s ever had!
So I’m on my quest now to learn more about franchising a Starbucks while working. Wish me luck.
Yes — I still have that “Christmas Hangover”. No, not from alcohol, though. You know when you’re prepping for the last month; wrapping presents, planning meals, cleaning house, watching your budget, nine hundred times a day telling your kids “you don’t want me to call Santa, do you?”, etc. THAT is the hangover I’m talking about.
The Christmas hype has totally drained me. I’m flat exhausted; mentally and physically.
I’m totally looking forward to a New Year! Cheers to a successful Christmas and the New Year that is almost upon us.
Meet Henry. He’s twelve and a half years old going on twenty-two. He plays travel baseball, shares my love of Starbucks Iced Salted Caramel Mocha Lattes, watches my kids, entertains my preposterous ideas and conversations, ensures men aren’t checking out my Mother and I while out in public and eats like he hasn’t been feed in days. Every. Single. Meal!
In fact, Henry likes to know what is for dinner before we’ve eaten breakfast. For real? I’m not even done cooking cheesy scrambled eggs and bacon and the kid is inquiring about dinner. Did you forget about lunch, buddy? Or is it just not that important to you? It’s ok, I don’t get too excited over turkey sandwiches, either.
Since when did 12 year old boys begin acting older than grown men? H likes to remind me to drive carefully and eat before enjoying a glass (ok, or three) of wine. He encourages my Mom to workout and have an awesome productive day. His humor is on our (mine and Yaya’s – side note: you’ll meet Yaya soon) level. The kid is just all around amazing. After all, he is my brother. They say give credit where credit is due. Done. I’ll take it!
I thought you should meet him, as he’ll be hanging around here quite a bit.