Saturday, July 13, 2013

Wakey, wakey...

I don't always wake up when I wake up.

You just snortled your soda, didn't you?  Because you know perfectly well what I mean, right?

I have thyroid disease, which has absolutely nothing to do with the premise of this post except to explain why I take thyroid hormone replacement.  They're my little white pills of energetic life.  I take 'em both in the morning right after I wake up--yes, I know some people say to take one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and I tried that once.  I forgot the afternoon dose.  I tried it again, actually, and I forgot again.  Thus I decided that maybe the whole split-the-dose schtick wasn't my thang. 

Anyway, I do follow the suggested ritual other than that little glitch.  Specifically, it's said that the pills won't work unless I keep my system clear for half an hour after taking them.  Apparently a sip of, say, coffee, makes the medicine run away screaming, unable to do its job, and so it goes--um, somewhere.  Elsewhere.  I dunno where.  Wherever it goes, it's not the same place it goes if I suffer and avoid drinking coffee for that half hour.

That's a looooooooonnnnnnngggggg half hour.

Once the half hour is up, I rush to the kitchen to get a nice, steaming hot cup of writer fuel.  Mmm!

Except that, well, sometimes I blow it.  Like today.  Hey, now, keep in mind that when this happens I have a perfectly acceptable defense of "I'm not awake yet."  I mean, I am awake, technically.  When it happened this morning, I'd even posted stuff to Facebook already, which can be kind of a dangerous thing to do pre-coffee.  But now time has passed and I'm halfway done with the first cup, and nobody's pushed the "I hate you now" link on my post yet, so all is good.

But yeah, I was overjoyed, as usual, to see the little clock on my computer screen flip over to "drink coffee now."  Yay!  So I got up and walked the dozen (ish) feet into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.

It took me a few moments, befuddled as I was by having too much blood in my coffee stream, to realize what I was doing wrong.  Specifically, and as you've probably already guessed, I don't generally brew coffee in my refrigerator, not even a few weeks ago when it was broken and thus not working well as a refrigerator.  Still not a good coffee maker.

Maybe I should make a sign: "Not A Coffee Pot," and hang it on the refrigerator with a few of the bazillion refrigerator magnets we have.  I should probably instead label the coffee pot, but the flaw in that scheme is that we don't have any coffee pot magnets.  Therefore, I'll just have to keep training myself to recognize it in my quasi-sleep.

Anyway, it took me a few moments of standing there, but I finally figured out that I wasn't likely to obtain coffee from the interior of the refrigerator and closed the door.  Satisfied with my realization that I was in the wrong part of the kitchen, I shambled over to the correct appliance and then stood there for a moment.

Turns out I'd left my coffee cup at my desk.

I returned to my desk on an errand that should've been a quick round trip.  But there was a picture of a kitty on my Facebook feed, you see, and below it were more of those cool headlines I talked about the other day.  There was one I wouldn't normally talk about in public, but the fact that "How Big Is The Average Penis? You Might Be Surprised" generated a popup advertisement to "Vote The GOP Out" had me laughing--a lot.

Funny juxtaposition aside, the article itself is hella entertaining, especially to someone like me who spent way too much time and money studying the act of studying.  It discusses, in a somewhat "folksy" method, the methodology used in the study to study penis length.  I--yeah, I can't make this stuff up, no matter how good a fiction writer I may be. 

Oh, right--coffee.

*slurp* Ah.

Y'all have a great morning.


- TOSK

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