So tonight, I already wrote an insomnia induced post, so I won’t post this one…but I’ll post it later (or I guess now, according to you?), you’re welcome.
A while ago a wrote about being addicted to coffee. Fun fact, apparently I’m a recovering addict, sort of? I haven’t had coffee in a couple of weeks. And I’m terrified to have one, even though tomorrow I know I’ll need one. But I haven’t had one, and I feel like it’s an accomplishment, and as soon as I have one, I know that accomplishment gets washed down the drain. Anyhow, it wasn’t an intentional withdrawal at first. I was just happy and excited and awake and it felt good to have that induced by something[one] other than a drink. So I went with it. For a couple of days. And then, then it became, it became this thing. So I drink water at work. And in the afternoon sometimes, I drink Coke.
Sometimes I drink Coke.
Does that not completely nullify the accomplishments of not drinking coffee? Yes, of course it does, but don’t tell me that! I like to think I’m still accomplishing something other than just work during my workday!
So why do I do it? Why do I still drink Coke. I drink it when I know it will keep me awake. Like tonight, I had it for dinner. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I knew I’d be tired tomorrow. And somehow, I chose to do it anyways. What reckless abandon I display. Someone should call the cops and have them arrest me for being a juvenile delinquent…except, despite my forgetting, I’m pretty sure I’m not a juvenile anymore. I mean, if I broke the law, they wouldn’t send me to juvy at least.
Anyhow, I drink it even though I hate the way it makes me feel. I hate how when I’m tired, I can’t sleep. I hate how sometimes, it makes my skin crawl. Makes me feel like I’m in desperate need to run out of my own body. Makes me feel slightly manic. Sometimes.
But sometimes it doesn’t. And sometimes I can sleep. So it’s like roulette, and it’s a gamble, and I love to gamble I guess. Maybe that’s why?
Or maybe it’s because I know I shouldn’t. And in most decisions I make, I do what I should, even if it isn’t what I want. In most things, I walk the line. So in my caffeine drinks, I rebel. I rebel against the man…and myself. Because that makes sense. When I was in college, one of my best friends…actually many of my best friends…would try to prevent me from drinking Coke. It was my weakness. They all knew it made me sick (oh yeah, not only does caffeine keep me shaky, but acidic things burn like a b*tch). And they would literally argue with me, and physically pull Cokes from my prying fingers. Why they are still friends with me is beyond me. Why I fought with them is also beyond me.
Maybe it’s a form of self punishment. Like I deserve to be tired for not accomplishing all of the greatness I’d like to have accomplished by now. So there, TAKE THAT SELF! You’re a failure, and now you can’t sleep AND you’ll be tired tomorrow! But I don’t know if my subconscious is that evil.
Maybe it’s a form of self reward. And a testament to my future strength. You want a Coke? I mean you shouldn’t, but ok, you’ve earned it. I mean, you like, went to work today, so that was good. Good job. Drink up darling, don’t worry, future you can totally handle it! I can’t decide if my subconscious gives me too much credit, or if I give my subconscious too much credit. Either way, I’m pretty sure I’m somehow getting far too much credit, and probably reading into my caffeine habits way too much.
I give up.
The Afterlife 