G received her second round of vaccines yesterday, and today she's feeling lousy. So I'm pinned beneath a sleeping baby with the threat of heart wrenching whimpering if I move. Problem - my left arm is asleep. And I have to pee.
At least my coffee cup is full. I know, why would I drink more coffee when I have to pee? That's the strange part of addiction. You want more even if it's going to hurt you.
I'm not addicted to the caffeine. It's literally the coffee - the flavor, the warmth, the dry taste in your mouth when you've had too much, the intestinal upset, all of it. Like I said, I'm hooked. It doesn't have to make sense.
My relationship with coffee isn't unlike my experience with reality tv. I know it's crummy. I know there are better ways to use my time. But once I start, my competitive, addict side kicks in, and I feel obligated to find out who wins. It's embarrassing (as is the fact that spell check just corrected how I spelled embarrass when I could have sworn it's spelled embarass - shoot).
Back to reality, or not so reality tv, I have followed seasons of shows on models, survivors, chefs, dancers, even dog groomers - all to find out which complete stranger wins. More accurately, to find out if I correctly picked the winner. Yes, I'm unfortunately willing to waste hours justifying my own opinion. That should be a warning to my readers. I'm a fool for my own opinion. Enjoy watching me publicly humiliate myself.
One well-voiced opinion already in jeopardy. I've said for years that I hate Faukner because he uses stream-of-consciousness, and I can't follow it. This post followed my derailing train of thought with no forethought. Again, shoot.
ReplyDelete