Highly Caffeinated, but Short Sighted
My anxiety tendencies are directly proportional to my caffeine intake. I love coffee, but I limit myself to the two cappuccinos my kind husband makes for me every morning. Last week, though, I had friends coming over for a playdate. I made a pot of coffee. I had one cup beyond my usual. I told myself that was it. But when they left, I found 12 ounces left of coffee. And because nothing succeeds like excess, I heated it up, added a tablespoon and a half of the fancy French cocoa mix a friend gave me, and I enjoyed every drop.
I also enjoyed how energized I was that afternoon. I wrote entries for this weblog. I read all my feeds. I did the dishes.
And then I crashed, just as 22mo Guppy woke from his nap, and 4yo Drake finished preschool. I spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in a post-sugarbomb fugue. I was so fatigued I felt ill. So I’m back to two capps a day. I’ve learned my lesson. But I can’t promise how long I’ll remember it.