ladymirth: (bucket dance)

Whoever heard of a caffeine junkie being allergic to coffee? 

Not that it stopped me, this morning, from downing a cup black enough to make my neurons scream and beg for mercy at the sight of it though. I need coffee to do real work. It's like spinach is to Pop-Eye, and the magic potion is to Asterisk. It's a wonderful, wonderful feeling to be wired on coffee. The adrenaline rush is incredible. I do my best work when I'm on a coffee high. 

That has become my academic M.O. I wait till three or four days before my end of semester research papers, thesis and portfolios are due, stay up two to three nights straight wired on an entire flaskfull of death-black caffeine and write like a my brain is on fire (which is kind of is at that point). I turn my papers in seconds before my deadline and the professors, whose faces were turning puce up until that point, take a look at it and suddenly love me like they've just discovered the reason for their existence. I end up getting one of the highest grades in class and spend the rest of the week nearly dying from the after-effects of insomnia and caffeine poisoning. 

Yes, I am a stupid, self-destructive, happy-go-lucky undergrad student who is going to kill herself one day. What of it?
 
You know that guy in Heroes who needed to get high on heroin to paint the future? I feel such a kinship with him.  

So here I am, on a major coffee crash at three in the afternoon. My nervous system feels like it's bunched together from my tailbone to my brain, which is going to burst out of my skull and paste my eyeballs on the opposite wall. My knees feel like a new-born Bambi's. My guts are trying to surge up through my mouth like the traffic at the exit point of Baseline Road at 8 o' clock on a Monday morning. I am sipping my thrid glassful of water in a bid to flush the toxins out. Hopefully, my stomach will have quit doing the conga enough by that time for me to have some lunch. 

This, my friends, is not whining. This is fucking euphoria. For I may be near death, but I have bounced off the walls like a ping-pong ball for four hours and got my to-do list done, and it felt fucking incredible! 

Stark staring batshit bonkers and proud of it!

P.S: ZOMG, hilarious! Cockatoo rocking its birdy to "Backstreet's Back"! I is phaarking ded!

ladymirth: (mee)

Yep, that's the REAL Slim Shady, y'all! 

Not as good as Teri Hatcher, but I've decided to BE MYSELF. Ha.

Actually, I'm just celebrating FINALLY getting ADSL at home. We two shalt be never sundered by crazy dial-up bills and modems again, my LJ! Never!!

Right. 

That is all.

ADSL Rules!! 

June 2009

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