As the astute among you might have noticed (or inferred from my clever and subtle title), this is my hundredth blog post since I started back in January 2009. I could spend this entire post waxing on how much I've learned, what exactly it is that I have learned, and the profound impact on my life.
But you're not here to read about that.
And honestly, I don't think I could suppress giggles and feeling of hoity-toityness to get it done.
Instead, I will highlight that which has been my close companion this year and a half.
And what has often brought you late night blog posts.
So without further ado:
Saturday nights/Sunday mornings are usually pretty rough. Often, I get out of work pretty late, and then have to turn around and get up for church which starts at nine. Lately, it's hit or miss on if I make it.
This last weekend, I decided enough was enough. Was I going to church or wasn't I?
For those of you who say "If you ask God for the strength to stay awake, it will be granted. You have no excuse!" I say...you are correct. I have done that. But that is not to say that He does not also provide tools for us to use if we are willing to pay the price.
The night drug on further than I would have liked and when I finally bunked down and looked at the clock, I would have to be up in less that 2 hours. More like an hour and 15 minutes. What was the point of sleep now?
Kick in the overdrive.
Since my coffee pot died, I've been having a morning cup of espresso instead of my morning pot. I really do like lingering over several cups, but there is something about getting your entire pot's worth in one cup.
And it is very revitalizing.
So. Take a look at this:
It may look like an innocent hot chocolate container given to me by a friend at Christmas, but it also doubles nicely as a water-tight espresso thermos. You see, I knew I could drink all I wanted before church, but I really need that extra jolt between the two sessions.
So I made one batch, and poured it off to cool. I waited a bit, then thought I needed to get the second batch done. Anyone who has used an espresso machine knows that you leave them to cool off because of the pressure and remnants of steam.
I gave it what I thought was sufficient time, grabbed a potholder and attempted to loosen the lid. It was on tight. So I figured I would get the coffee part out of the way. I reached up and loosened that little coffee thingy.
Coffee exploded everywhere. All over me, the counter, and the machine.
Of course that meant that the top would come off because there wasn't a head of steam anymore. My thumb only got a little red from the steam the dried out the coffee grounds instantly as it flung them around like powder. The time I spent cleaning up THAT mess would have been ample time to allow it to cool down. Ah well.
By the time I was done, I had my cup and a half of espresso (equivalent to roughly 5 shots) and had the other 3 encapsulated in my little container. I jumped on my bike and twiddled off to church.
When the break came, I went back into the narthex. Time to down my elixir of life. But somehow, it didn't seem right to just bust it out and knock it back in the light of day. It felt too much like shooting up drugs during the family dinner at the table. With the Pastor over. (not that I would know what that feels like...honestly!)
So I went into the bathroom. And felt even more illicit when I knocked it back. I could feel the caffeine hit my blood...wheee!
I put my twitchy hands under the faucet to further the illusion that I had been in the stall for the intended purpose.
I had slight problems paying attention. My stomach felt a little funny. My eyes were very shifty and my writing was not the elegant scrawl it normally is. (I normally have very nice handwriting). But no matter, I would go home and have a nap before work at 3.
Except that after church, some good friends wanted to go out to lunch to catch up. Couldn't pass that one up, could I?
My stomach is increasingly feeling queasy, but I'm allotting that to the amount of espresso. I end up getting a soup for lunch...not something I normally do...and feel increasingly ill.
I go home and fall into bed for a half hour, hoping I will feel better when I get up.
Nu-uh. Doesn't happen. In fact,when I wake up at 2:30, I feel worse. I call in to work...there's no one who could cover for me because Graygirl and Greengirl were doing an overlap. Graygirl has left, but Greengirl doesn't mind staying for another hour or so. I go back to sleep.
When I finally get to work and have a chance to just sit, I recognize the signs of food poisoning. (I've had to go to the doctor once for a bad case)
So all that angst about it being ME that had brought that horrible condition on myself through over consumption of caffeine, it was something else all along. So it really serves me right for breaking the unspoken rule about what you're allowed to expect from your body.
I would like to think I've learned my lesson.