Confessions of a Bubble Tea Addict
It is Day Four.
I didn’t think I had a problem. No one ever does. It started as a harmless, post-work pick-me-up. A treat. A little dose of pearly happiness after a long day.
Then it became a routine.
Then an obsession.
I became a bubble tea addict. Everyday, I would make the two-kilometer trek homeward from school to Clementi. And everyday, Gong Cha would be there to greet me, a tiny oasis in the midst of durian stalls. “一杯珍珠绿奶茶” (One cup of green milk tea with pearls) was my order every time. It was so automatic and flowed out as smoothly as saying my own name. Sometimes I think it was. It became a part of my identity, my being.
But it is Day Four. Day Four of no bubbles. Of restraint. Of withdrawal. Of struggle. Of freedom.
Judy-tudy has not been so successful. She is only on Hour Four. With my help and influence of resolve, she might one day make it.
It is also Day Four of being twenty-two. Never before in my life have I been told how young I am more often than the past four days. In some ways, it is true. Sometimes, I am greatly intimidated by the fact that the high schoolers, some who are four years or less my junior, approach me daily for transcripts, report cards, and other such academic-related requests. But reassurance returns when they address me as “Ms. Shang”. Certainty shines forth more each day as I learn more. Confidence crushes and conquers those copious, creeping fears of inadequacies. (This confidence, of course, derives from the great faithfulness and grace of our Lord. And from prayer. A lot of prayer.)
In many other ways, I am old. I go to bed at 9:17pm. I spend countless weekend hours admiring and walking about Singapore’s phenomenal gardens. I wear sunscreen. I memorize poetry during the commute to work. I drink water. And bubble tea.
Hello, my name is Rebecca. I’m a bubble tea addict.
It is Day Four. Let’s celebrate.
With bubble tea. :-)