hugga mugga

      I've decided that this month I will not buy coffees or lunches. I usually get a coffee once every two weeks or so which really isn't that bad. Lunch is the same. It's just an occasional thing. Ne'ertheless it's a quick drain on cash so I decided I'd "be good" and abstain. Besides, the real reason I end up going out for lunch or grabbing a cappucino is because:
      a) I didn't pack a lunch the night before or
      b) I'm cold and need to warm up with something hot to drink.
Both of these things can be solved by merely planning ahead.
      Today was c-c-c-cold. I work in a public area and the doors were opening and closing to the Great White North all day. Despite my layers of clothing it was freezing. So I put on my coat and scarf. That took the edge off a little but my hands were still ice cubes in the shape of, well, hands.
      "That's it, God." I talk to God. "I gotta have a coffee. Just to warm up! It can't be healthy shivering like this for hours on end. But I can't buy one. Someone has to bring me one."
      I know.
      So I waited for awhile. It can happen. It has happened.
      But it didn't happen. And I felt my bones chill into permafrost. Yet I felt resolved to stick with my cheap but brilliant plan.
      And kept waiting. I can be very stubborn.
      It struck me then, thankfully, that if I wasn't willing to buy a coffee to meet an actual need of mine to keep warm even though I had the cash to do it then I had a very strange idea of how God takes care of my needs. I had the means to do it and was refusing to do it on the coffee grounds that I needed my money for something else (just what exactly I didn't know but I was sure something would come up) .
      "You're right, God." said I to God. "I'm buying a coffee." My cheap self gave up its ghost.
      Before I could close up shop a lady came in. Browsed. Bought.
      "Keep the change." She smiled. "A tip."
      $1.40, people.
      She left. I woo-hooed! and locked the door behind me. And made a bee-line for Javaroma's.
      I was so excited. I was thinking that for sure a large coffee would cost $1.40. I just had this feeling. God, you're so cool.
      "How much is a large coffee?" asked I.
      "$2.60"
      "Oh." That wasn't even enough for a small coffee. (I live in 1995, I realise.)
      My face must have said it all because the sweet girl behind the counter reached into her mounding tip jar and made up the difference.
      He didn't have to do that. God, I mean. And He doesn't always. But He's like that. I give up stuff I'm hard-headed about and find I don't miss it. I'm not saying life becomes a pile of daisies and falling doughnuts.
      But I'm loved. Right down to the details.
      Tomorrow I'll bring my favourite mug and use the tea kettle.
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