A story that will depress many of my readers

I don't drink coffee much. In fact, I tend to limit myself to Diet Pepsi for such stimulation. But I've been fighting a cold the last couple of days (which I've thankfully kicked it seems, with some lingering snot issues), and I can't afford to miss work, so on Wednesday I had two glasses of Starbucks brew mixed with hot chocolate powder. Which is also known as the ghetto mocha.

It's strange; because I don't drink it that often the side effects are rather intense. After two cups I'm flying, I get sweaty, and I start speeding. It's about like doing cocaine to me. Seriously, the effects are about the same, I even start to grind my teeth. And the first couple hours are FUN. I'm literally flying, and it feels great. But Wednesday night I get home, and I'm watching a DVD and I'm hit with a wave of self-doubt and self-loathing. Like, hating myself and thinking of all the things I've done in the last year that have made me feel like a tool. I was standing in the middle of my apartment wondering why the hell I was having a freak out. Was it because I had been so sober for the last week due to my illness, was it my cold or was Los Angeles finally having the effect on me that others warned might encroach?

When I was twelve I had some coffee and it had such a depressing effect on me, I was feeling a tad depressed over an episode of Mr. Belevedere, an episode about the family helping a homeless dude that I ended up hiding out in the family bathroom for a couple of hours (TMI, you better believe it). And after that I rarely drank coffee because I realized it caused such a strong physiological response. And it was only Thursday I remembered why I don't drink coffee. In the interim my mood has improved tremendously, and I now have to keep in mind my issues with it. Which is funny, because I was enjoying my two cups so much I was thinking I should drink coffee more often, until I remember what it does to me.

You know what, Prince's Batman soundtrack? Not that bad, all things.

Also, it seems when I'm getting my flirt game on, I play with my hair - I push my hair behind my ear. Not that I have so much of it that it gets unweildy, I guess it's a nervous reaction, especially when things seem to be going well.

Lah de dah...