Jeezus, HELLLLLLLOOO March.
Usually March is great. Usually.
Usually it's the month of many great things.
Unfortunately, it's also the month I have decided to torture myself by eliminating caffeine.
NORMAL MARCH:
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| The birth month of my oldest daughter! |
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| The second greatest sports competition each year! |
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| The only day the Irish can legitimately excuse their ridiculous drinking and belligerent behavior. |
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| Spring Break and sunny weather! |
MARCH 2012
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| WHAT WAS I THINKING??? |
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So how has this year's formerly fantastic month of March gone so far? Not great, people. Not great.
For starters, I woke up late this morning. 2 hours late, to be exact. With 30 minutes until we had to walk out the door to get the girls to school, there was exactly ZERO minutes left for the gym, bathing the kids, breakfast. My shower lasted 2 minutes, I'm pretty sure my outfit didn't match and my make up was CLEARLY done in a hurry. When I went downstairs to make the morning hot chocolates, steamed milk and coffees (Yeaaahhh, I heard how high-maintenance that sounded as I typed it), I got halfway into the coffee and realized - DAMNIT!!!! - I can't have coffee.
Today of all days. This morning of all mornings.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
So, I made The Toddler's Hot Chocolate, which she calls a Mocha. I made The Princess' Steamed Milk, because she has been banned from high sugar levels. And I just stared at my poor, lonely coffee mug.
I rushed the girls out of the house, Go Cups in their hands and shoes barely on their feet, and headed off to drop offs and to work.
For the love of God, that was the longest drop off routine ever. It was 7:45am, an hour into my day, and I was already seeing how hard it was going to be to get thru it all uncaffeinated. But, wait, it gets worse: my morning meeting was at STARBUCKS. Are. You. Kidding. Me.
I've explained that I don't have many vices. I don't smoke, drink or do drugs. Well, I drink, but I probably average one drink a month. And by average, I mean that I drink 2-3 drinks every 2-3 months. But I drink coffee. I love it in the morning and I love it the exact way I make it with strong French-Roasted Costa Rica beans in a Press. But when I'm having a day where I'm really stressed or really anxious, I feed my need with a Vanilla Latte - full fat - 130 degrees. Always the same drink. So now, here I am, Day One of the March Challenge to go without caffeine and I'm sitting at effing Starbucks.
Side Note: Is it a coincidence that today was the first time I noticed how annoyingly chipper their staff are? I really wanted to tell the flamboyant, happier-than-anyone-legally-should-be cashier to shove it when he asked for my order. But I guess it's not really his fault that today was March 1st, aka the 1st day of Hell month. It took me about 5 minutes to decide what drink I wanted. And I ended up with an incredibly underwhelming Vanilla-Something-Or-Other Tazo Tea. Thanks for nothing, Howard Schultz and Co.
I had no idea that this would be this irritating this fast. I mean, for goodness sake, it was only 9am and I was contemplating how many ways I could ruin people who wronged me. Is it inappropriate to ram the back of a car because I don't like its bumper sticker? Is it excessive that I wanted to run down the guy who thought to pair a neon orange shirt and turquoise cargo shorts? And what about all the torturous things I considered doing to the woman who answered the phone at New York Life like today was the best day God had ever granted her? I know I'm not the most Polyanna-like person to start, but I'm usually much more tolerant.
God help these poor people who are going to deal with me over the next few days of withdrawal.
I did make it thru the meeting and manage to be quite productive.
I had multiple pleasant conversations with my staff and coworkers.
I even smiled at strangers.
But then, at the end of the afternoon, my head began to pound. Not in the way your head hurts right after you've heard music too loud. More in the way your head hurts after the UT Marching Band finishes playing its Fight Song INSIDE your head. Holy Hell. So, there I am at 4:45, on the way to an appointment with my 14-year-old, and I can barely think clearly from the pain. I've already downed all the Aleve and Ibuprofin medically advisable. And the Vicodin chaser wasn't helping either. The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf across from his appointment was too much for me to handle. I succumbed to the pain and ordered coffee.
I should get some credit tho - I normally order a triple and I ordered a half-decaf-double (for those who aren't math-adept, that's a single shot). I'm just gonna go ahead and admit that the euphoria I felt after the first sip only fully highlighted how horrible this addiction is. PRE-COFFEE: I swear I felt like my head was going to implode. POST-COFFEE: Relief. Happiness. Heaven.
So, maybe not perfect, but not too bad, I don't think. And hopefully tomorrow I won't need any at all.
But the truth is, all I'm really doing is counting down the days until April when I can get right back on the coffee-horse and what methods will get it in my system the fastest.
::ANSWERS::
and
*SIGH*
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