caffeine, humor, writing

Caffeine BuzzzzzZZZZZ

When I was in high school and in college I drank coffee.  Lots of it.  Who didn’t drink coffee in college?  And then when I went into the real world I gave it up.  I distinctly remember sitting at a Wendy’s drive-in in Loveland, Colorado when I made the decision that I was done.  I realized that it gave me headaches and that I just didn’t feel good when I drank it.  Keep in mind that I made this decision while I was sitting in a drive thru.  Yes, it’s hypocritical.  I acknowledge that.  And that was the end of that.  I still drank decaffeinated beverages, but I was through with the stout, holds a spoon upright coffee that sustained my college existence.  The delightful citrusy goodness of Mountain Dew, gone.  The thick, sugar sweet, sweet tea of my childhood, gone.  I said goodbye to it all.  I even abstained from full octane in graduate school.  Granted, I was drinking other things at the time, but trust me, there was no caffeine involved.

I don’t allow our son to have caffeine.  My husband, has, on occasion given him caffeine, but that’s usually been because he hasn’t read labels.  And then he pays for it dearly when the kid is running around like a crazy person and I leave the house and he’s left to deal with the consequences of his choices.  Enough said about that, I think you get my point.

So I haven’t had full octane caffeine for . . . um, let’s see . . . 16 years.  Until today and that was a mistake I don’t want to make again.

I went to a new hair salon today and while I was waiting, a stylist offered me some coffee.  I asked if she had anything decaffeinated.  She said she did and she went to brew me a decaffeinated K-cup.  While she was back in the back she remarked that she also had a caramel cappuccino if I’d rather have that.  I told her no that it had caffeine and that I would just take the plan decaffeinated coffee she offered earlier.  She brought out a steaming cup and it was great.  When I got back home several hours later (I’ve got hair horses envy) I remarked to my husband that I thought the stylist had given me regular coffee instead of decaff.  He said I was acting nuttier than usual and I told him that I felt like I was on speed.  Again, I have no life experience in that area so perhaps that is an inaccurate comparison.

However, given the fact that I’m writing this at three o’clock in the morning when I’m usually fast asleep by 8:30 is a pretty good indication that the stylist did indeed give me the full octane.

I’m disappointed on many levels.  For one, I worked hard for my caffeine sobriety!  Secondly, if I’m going to be awake all night there are a lot of ways I’d like to spend my time.  I could be watching a great movie.  I could be on a private jet with Matthew McConahey.  Or on a private island with George Clooney.   Or Wilson Bethel. Third, if I’m going to be awake all night, there should at least be someone else awake to keep me company.  You can reference back to Matthew or George if you’d like.  But is that happening?  No!  The hunting dog was passed out on the couch by 8.  The husband by 9.  But he wasn’t passed out, he was just sleeping.  It’s the dog that has the drinking problem in our family. The kid went to bed at 9:30.  At 11:30 I went outside in the rain and found the cat and brought her back into the house.  She hung out with me for a little bit, but then she too gave up on me and went to sleep somewhere.

I hate caffeine for what it’s doing to me right now.  It’s making me bonkers.  I don’t know how the rest of you people function like this. I mean, seriously how do you do it?  This is probably why Martha Stewart comes up with crazy projects because she’s jazzed up all the time.  If I felt this way all the time perhaps I would have a clean house.  Or be organized.  Or be super fit.  Or be President.

But I don’t want those things.  I just want the comfort of my warm bed.  I want to be lulled to sleep with the sounds of snoring zzzzzzZZZZZ.

Here it comes . . yes, there it is, a yawn.  Bring the wagon ‘round when I wake up.  I’m stepping back on it again.  But this time I don’t plan on falling off.



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