I’m all hopped up on caffeine right now. Think I overdid it this morning–a triple vanilla mocha. But I had good reasons: 1)I have asthma today and I left my inhaler at home; caffeine is supposedly a good remedy for asthma (though it doesn’t seem to be working) and 2)I also left my cash at home and had to use my debit card, which means I had to do the $3 minimum purchase thing at the coffee cart. Buh.
It’s a weird day. I set my alarm to wake me up at 5:30 (the time I usually get up to go to my other job) even though I didn’t have to be at the WC ‘til 10 today. I was thinking it’d be good to get up early and write. Ha. I managed to pull the alarm clock off its table and set it right beside me. I hit snooze for three hours. So much for an early start to this day. Anyway, I did manage to get out of the house on time and zipped up I-5 to Bothell with plenty of time to spare.
Things worked out quite well there because (as I said already) I had no cash and it costs a dollar to park here. I searched my pockets but came up with nada. Managed to find ninety five cents in the car and a nickel on the ground. I stuffed it all in my pocket and headed across the parking lot towards the meter thingy. Hand back in pocket, out comes three dollars in change. I swear it multiplied. There’s no other explanation. If you don’t believe me, let me put your money in my pocket. I can triple its value in the time it takes me to walk 25 yards. Now there’s an idea for an infomercial.
Once at work, I realized I’d forgotten not only my inhaler and my cash, but my lunch as well (which really sucks, because it’s sitting on the counter as I write this–leftover kung pao chicken and brown rice, which I made by myself thank you very much). So it’ll be gross by the time I get back to the house tonight and I’ll be stuck with won ton soup for dinner (the other dish I made this week–Happy Chinese New Year, by the way).
ANYway, I started kvetching to a co-worker (woe is me, I have no good job, no prospects, woe, oh woe, etc) and learned some secret information which I promised not to reveal to a soul. I dare not even hint at what it is. Nope, not a peep.
I hate keeping secrets. It’s driving me nutty. (In fact, go ahead and add ‘keeping secrets’ to that list a made a few weeks back.) And, my point with this whole story is that I’ve had just enough caffeine that I fear I’m either going to start my Whirling Dervish impression or run through the halls shouting out the secret.
As my grandmother would have said:
‘Goodness gracious. Land sakes alive.’