I bought the worst tea the other day! Continue reading
This month is going to be insane, and so a little sporadic around here. I’m out of town a lot, for weddings and holiday and all of that stuff that comes around this time of the year, but I promise to update whenever I can.
I got sick, which I always do before I take a trip, so for the last two days I was immobile, whining and moaning, complaining about everything, trying to survive for two days without caffeine. I had my first cup of coffee this morning since Saturday, and I just about spun a hole into the ground with my sudden burst of energy. I was so wired that I had to run an errand while I was in the middle of a chore, because I just couldn’t take standing still any longer. I still have more errands to run, including laundry, packing, cooking, etc., so perhaps another cup will be necessary. No wonder I drink so much of this stuff! It’s great! I feel so good, even though I still feel mostly shitty! Coffee rules!
Just wanted to check in on the Twitch, which seems to have completely disappeared since I did what it said and told the world about its powers. It might also be the Potassium that a few of you suggested. Thanks for writing in and sharing your similar twitch woes, and for making me feel like less of a freak, once again.
For those of you keeping score on the pits, I’m currently trying Arrid XX, which is what I used back in high school. It’s working okay so far, and I’ve been using the Rolling technique to keep the white streaks off my clothes. There’s a White Stripes joke here, but you know… it’s all about The Vines now, isn’t it?
So, my twitchy eye. It went away, but now it’s back. It’s back and it’s mad. It wants to be heard. It wants to be seen. It used to be other people wouldn’t be able to see it if I forced them to stare at my head, but now you can see it. You can notice it. It looks like my eye wants to leave my face.
It’s my right eye. The twitch is in the upper eyelid, and it appears the twitch will go away only when I’m talking about, worrying about, addressing or thinking about the twitch. I searched the Internet and found a range of solutions, ones that started with “It’s perfectly normal,” to “…Unless it’s a brain tumor.”
The Web doctors seem to all agree that it’s caused by caffeine, lack of sleep or stress.
It is way too early in the morning to be learning lessons, but that’s exactly what just happened to me.
I had just cleaned up the entire kitchen and living room first thing in the morning (women out there, I’m sure you know what that means — unpredictable bursts of cleanliness), and I was making a pot of coffee with the last of the Trader Joe’s Bay Area Blend when I noticed the new Starbucks pound of coffee sitting on top of the microwave, eagerly waiting in line to be the new coffee of the week. I picked up the freeze-dried bag and read the side.
Since her first sighting, Starbucks Siren has seduced us with her songs. Earth and air, fire and water combine to create her distinctive voice, the voice of Starbucks Coffee.
Wow. How much does that coffee love itself? Excuse me, herself? I couldn’t believe how high and mighty this new coffee was, not even opened yet, bragging that it was worthy of mythological status. I smirked at the coffee bag and put it back on the microwave, creating the copy for my Trader Joe’s tried-and-true blend.
It ain’t fancy, but you can make it every morning and it always tastes like coffee. Trader Joe’s, where cheap doesn’t mean shitty.
I chuckled in my morning haze, so proud of myself for being so damn funny, as I went to the other room to compulsively clean something else while taping something to my vcr while checking my email downstairs. I like to multi-task.
I wandered back into the kitchen, impatient for my first cup of coffee, deciding to play a game of “Catch the Stream of Goodness.”
I did that thing where you get yourself all worked up to work out and then you over workout trying to be a bad ass and you feel bad for the rest of the day.
Where I live there’s a reservoir with a track that runs around it. I guess it’s about 2.5 miles. I’ve been getting up in the mornings and running to Howard Stern. I learned back in college that the best way to have people leave you alone when you’re in a potentially vulnerable situation is to act like a crazy person. Trust me, nobody bothers a girl who laughs while she runs.
My doctor and I aren’t on the best terms. I’ve only met him once before, right when I signed up for insurance and needed a referral for a gyno. He basically looked at me and said along the lines of, “You look like hell. What’s wrong with you?”
I basically said along the lines of, “My father’s dying.”
Then he basically said something like, “You could still lay off the french fries. Or maybe you’ve got some kind of thyroid problem.”
I know I often joke about being seven years old, but today I have proof. Last night I went to sleep with an irritation at the front of my ear. The pain was eclipsed by my sunburned chest and butt, so I thought nothing of it.
This morning I have swimmer’s ear.
And because I haven’t had it since I was a kid, I immediately tried to fix it with hydrogen peroxide (what usually breaks up an ear clog for me) and Q-Tips. I’ve apparently worsened it quite a bit. I can’t hear out of my left ear and I’m in so much pain I think I might never stop crying.
I can tell the holidays are coming because I’m very busy and completely mentally occupied. I’m not thinking about what I’m doing, but rather what I won’t be doing when my vacation gets here. I just crank out work, crank out essays, crank out code, but inside I’m thinking “three more days. three more days. three more days.”
I’m ready for a vacation. I’m all cranky and bitchy. And not at anyone, or for any real thing. I just want to stop working for a couple of days. No more deadlines.