On a coffee-less day...

Looks like I chose the wrong day to try and get by de-caffeinated. As if it’s not enough that I couldn’t go on some camp that right now all of my friends are one for three days because I was just too late to confirm because of my nocturnal waking hours, I’ve just deleted my recycle bin instead of emptying it. How sublime. Why would there be a delete button on list to begin with? I mean, think about it, where would the recycle bin go when you delete it? Doesn’t it make you think of someone trying to eat their own arm? No? Cookie-monster? No? Phoo. Well, I want to know where it is. If the recycle bin is where deleted stuff goes into, where does a deleted recycle bin go? Does it go to the same place lost socks go to? Naw, I mean, I find almost every lost object, socks included, under my bed. For God’s sake I found my cell phone there, right next to my glasses, four days ago. No, smartass, I won’t go looking for the recycle bin under my bed.

So, back on the coffee-less day. Being de-caffeinated ain’t easy you know; it gets you to bump into chains you didn’t see because you were too groggy, and trip on flat surfaces more often than you used to, which is a shocker since I’m a natural klutz, never thought it could get upgrades. It gets you to make typos like you had tentacles for fingers and live the day thinking tomorrow’s Sunday with the big meeting and calling up people to confirm ending up with an awkward “So…”

Being coffee-less means 5 hours and three failed try-outs on a Photoshop tutorial that contributes nothing to the world but turn your face into a typed print matrix, and I used the word coffee by the way, and still it didn’t work. Yes, Coffee is the first word that pops into my head. Coffee. Coffee. See?

Being coffee-less means losing 3 out of 4 rounds in a pillow fight with your dad, which is unthinkable since my ninja attacks were a pro, being a short person.

You know what? Fuck it. I’m making coffee.