The Promise Book.

My quest for coffee this morning (beyond the Free Office-made variety, which just wasn't cutting it) led me to a local coffee house. Normally I default to Starbucks, but in an effort to Be A Responsible Consumer and whatnot, I decided I'd go somewhere else.

A couple of co-workers and I strolled down the street from work, to a walk-up coffee place. (Hut? Stand? Cove? I'm not sure.) This place has been around for a couple of years, and is so close to work for me that I can see their sign from my building - so I'm not sure why they aren't top of mind for me when I think "OMG CAFFEINE NOW".

Anyway, as I was standing there waiting for my skinny Vanilla Latte, I noticed a handmade sign taped to the window: "We accept cash, checks, and promises."

Double-take.

Promises? Really? Huh.

And just as I was thinking, "how does that even work?", my co-worker tried to hand the Coffee Dude her debit card. Coffee Dude is one of those ultra laid-back, hair in a messy ponytail, wearing-corduroy-pants-even-when-it's-eighty-degrees, perma-grin guys.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we can't take cards. But hang on! Let me get the Promise Book."

The whaaaa?

Coffee Dude had a well-worn notebook in hand, ready to take down my co-worker's name. "It's cool. You can just bring money later, whenever you can, okay?" My business degree and experience with How The Real World Works didn't allow me to feel comfortable with that arrangement, so I ponied up a few bucks and covered her coffee for her.

"Are you sure? Because it's really okay. You don't have to...", he said.

"Yep, I'm sure. Besides - I know where she works, right?", and shook my fist, comically.

I also told him he needs to get a tip jar going at the window. Baristas can't subsist on promises alone.

As we walked back, I kept thinking about the concept behind that Promise Book. I've decided that, in lieu of a cure for diabetes, I'd like a Diabetes Promise Book.

For the times when I know I need a workout, but don't have time - maybe diabetes could just play nice until I get around to it.

For the times I'm stuck at work, while my failure to plan ahead has left me with no test strips, pump cartridge replacement supplies, or a pump at all. (Hey, that's only happened twice.)

For the times I didn't get the carb to everything else ratio quite right.

For the times I sleep right through my CGM low or high alarms. (Hey, that happens all the time, actually.)

For the times I want to be on the ball, peppy and energetic - but that glycemic swingset inside of me won't be having any of that, thankyouverymuch.

For the times I don't realize until too late that I'm out of glucose tabs, and have to stumble somewhere to buy something to treat with.

And for the times that diabetes seems just a little bit bigger than me and my ability to conquer it.