Red BullI drank a Red Bull.

What the hell was I thinking? I wrote a while back about the effects of stimulants on the manic brain – like mine. It took me a few decades, but I came to the conclusion that caffeine is probably not the smartest thing for me to ingest. It seemed kind of stupid to feed a stimulant to an already stimulated brain. So, I quit caffeine. You don’t realize how addicted you are to caffeine until you quit. One word: HEADACHE.

Anyway, I was pretty tired the other day. Sitting at my desk, staring at the computer, trying to write a story I had been working on for months. I was seriously stressed.

So, I drank a Red Bull.

Have you ever seen a racehorse in the starting gate, eye wide open, bucking in the stall and hoofs pawing at the ground? That was me. I had not felt that way in a very long time. I knew the effects would wear off in an hour or so – so I got in my cubicle and avoided my co-workers and the phone. I know I can say things I don’t mean, in a way I don’t mean, when I am like that. Kind of like drunk dialing.

I the know the effects were probably exaggerated because I had pretty much eliminated all caffeine from my diet. I’m not blaming the Red Bull. I know better. Just like I know better than to drink alcohol – a depressant. I also know that I get tired every afternoon and that a brisk walk around the building or a low-glycemic snack will cure my overwhelming urge to drop my head on my desk and nap – just like in high school. Stupid is as stupid does, right, Forrest?

I have always been one of those stubborn, stupid souls who keeps putting her hand over the flame, thinking this time I won’t get burned. I used to chalk it up to being Irish but it’s just the way addicts and alcoholics think – when we do think.

So, I went to bed early last night and I will pack a snack and wear comfy shoes for a little walk this afternoon –  and not stick my hand over the flame at 3:00pm.

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