addict

I'd been suffering from a low-level headache all day. It really settled into my brain at about 1 pm, when I felt it necessary to lie down for a nap, this being a national holiday and all. I'd been drinking nothing but herbal tea all day, had had a nice, decent breakfast, and was otherwise feeling pretty hale, so I was mystified and ever so slightly resentful that I should be so afflicted.

I realized I was being a big baby, considering how I had run into an old acquaintance from high school just the night before, who eventually revealed that she had had a brain tumor.

She had trouble remembering my name at first, and I made a show of being self-mocking and hurt that anyone could forget such an estimable personage as myself (I was, shall we say, high profile in high school. Drum major of the band, drama club diva, conspicuously well- behaved and high acheiving. I think I even did the goddamn pledge of allegiance over the PA system my whole senior year. I think I would hate me then.) to which she responded that it was hard to remember things these days, what with part of her brain having been removed and all.

Ouch.

So my hothouse flower act over what was, after all, only a minor headache, was wearing a little thin. But there it was anyway. Just because you know that you are acting like a jerk doesn't mean you are sufficiently motivated to give it a rest.

So I lay swooning dramatically on my bed, having fitful dreams about weeding my garden whilst snow covered the ground. Eventually I had to get up and go to a gathering of friends -- woe is me -- so I fluffed up my hair, wincing at the pressure on my brain through the agitation of my follicles, and went out.

As soon as I walked in the room, I knew.

I smelled the unmistakable aroma of fresh coffee brewing, and my very synapses cheered with relief.

In the course of a normal working day, I consume vast quantities of coffee. On my days off, I am usually running errands, and so somehow manage to stumble across a latte or two in my wanderings. Today, however, errands-running was out since everything is closed on Our Nation's Birthday. So I had sat at home, unwittingly suffering withdrawal from my one remaining chemical dependence, caffeine.

So here I sit, gratefully sipping hot coffee at nine o'clock at night, knowing I will be awake until three a.m. as a result, not caring, not caring, not caring.

So grateful.