monster jitters…

Dragging myself out of bed today, I shuffled around the apartment, barely engaging in my morning routine. Potty break, feed cats, change cats’ water, brush teeth, shower, spend too much time figuring out what the hell to wear (what is this “lay out clothes the night before” that you mention – sounds like madness to me), dress, run out the door later than I should, all interspersed with petting the cats as they crossed my path and occasionally tried to kill me by attempted tripping. I left out my morning computer time because the clock was moving faster than I was. Besides, even when I start out on time, checking my e-mail and a few select sites first thing in the day nearly always pushes me into running late mode. No time for that today.

I tried to move quickly down the street as I walked to the bus stop about a quarter mile away from my home, dragging my rolling backpack behind me, my too heavy bright blue wool coat draped over my arm – in case I needed it for the evening – but my body was having none of it.

I had a couple of minutes, so I ducked into my local (somewhat unclean, so I never buy anything made there, including coffee) donut shop and picked up a Monster energy drink, even though I don’t like to start the morning with such a drink. It just felt necessary today. I made it to the bus stop just in time for my bus.

Less than ten minutes later, as I waited for my subway, I popped the can and started drinking. I finished it before I got to work whilst on the train or waiting for other buses or actually on the buses (I kept it low key and kept napkins at the ready, just in case).

I arrived at my soon-to-be closed showroom, unlocked the door, turned on all the lights, shuffled to my desk and started the morning work routine. As I returned calls I hoped that the drink would kick in at some point, as my body never reacts the same way twice with these things – sometimes I turn into a hummingbird on speed and sometimes I remain a Quaalude’d slug.

I spoke to my VP about staying on (as in I’m not) and suddenly my hands started to shake. I put it down to being nervous about telling her my decision, but then we hung up and I started on other work. And my hands continued to tremble. Just a little bit, but enough so that I knew that maybe it wasn’t just nervousness. And the warm restless feeling just grew.

The Monster drink finally kicked in. And it kicked in hard. Hello, Ms. Speed-Addicted Hummingbird. I see you’ve brought Restless Coke-Head Cheetah with you this morning.

Maybe I shouldn’t get that mocha that I’m craving.

I could make it a decaf, though, right?

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