You and your endocrine system: A primer
Here's how bad my caffeine tolerance is: I went to the coffee shop near my apartment after work, because I was on a groove with this article that was due today and didn't want to sink into "I'm home! I won't do anything!"-ness. I didn't want to just sit there and use up their space (and wireless) without buying something, since it's a small, independent shop, so I got an herbal iced tea. You see that? Herbal, theoretically non-caffeinated?
Later that evening, I went home, found a print edition of the Ikea catalog in the foyer and retreated up to the Treehouse. I was on fire. Not just "clean ALL the things!" but REARRANGE ALL THE THINGS. Yes, I became the upstairs neighbor who moves furniture at 10 o'clock at night. Still, it was energizing! I now have a whole wall open in my bedroom! (WHAT DO I PUT THERE? MAYBE A GREENHOUSE OR AN AQUARIUM!) I am getting rid of my couch as soon as I can if it kills me! (Anyone want it? It's comfortable and good for guests!) I am buying paint samples as soon as possible and PAINTING MY DAMN WALLS! I'm tired of living in institutional beige rooms! I AM GOING TO LOVE MY LIVING SPACE!
...around midnight, once I had read a good hundred pages of my book on American society during WWI, I turned out my light.
And didn't sleep.
And didn't sleep.
And didn't sleep.
Yeah.
This morning, of course, I woke up jittery, not to mention TIRED. I think I may have fallen asleep around 4? Maybe? I didn't want anything to do with most of the clothes I own (another project: GET RID OF ALL THE THINGS! BUY NEW ONES!), and wound up with a gray skirt and a gray tank top. That's not acceptable, so I unearthed some color (yay!), and was quite pleased with it! I even got a cool Anthro-esque shot, er, in my kitchen:
Of course, on two hours of sleep, no breakfast and too much black tea, upon arriving at work, this is a much more accurate representation of how I feel:
Today is also, of course, class night, so who knows how that's going to end up. As the person who used not Red Bull, not espresso, but Gatorade to keep her wired enough to stay up all weekend and write her Fundies exam in college, you'd think I'd know better by now. Maybe I was hoping I'd have outgrown my ridiculously sensitive glands, or whatever it is that processes caffeine. The lesson, however, is learned: no iced tea, certainly not on an emptyish stomach, unless you're prepared to face the consequences.
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Later that evening, I went home, found a print edition of the Ikea catalog in the foyer and retreated up to the Treehouse. I was on fire. Not just "clean ALL the things!" but REARRANGE ALL THE THINGS. Yes, I became the upstairs neighbor who moves furniture at 10 o'clock at night. Still, it was energizing! I now have a whole wall open in my bedroom! (WHAT DO I PUT THERE? MAYBE A GREENHOUSE OR AN AQUARIUM!) I am getting rid of my couch as soon as I can if it kills me! (Anyone want it? It's comfortable and good for guests!) I am buying paint samples as soon as possible and PAINTING MY DAMN WALLS! I'm tired of living in institutional beige rooms! I AM GOING TO LOVE MY LIVING SPACE!
...around midnight, once I had read a good hundred pages of my book on American society during WWI, I turned out my light.
And didn't sleep.
And didn't sleep.
And didn't sleep.
Yeah.
This morning, of course, I woke up jittery, not to mention TIRED. I think I may have fallen asleep around 4? Maybe? I didn't want anything to do with most of the clothes I own (another project: GET RID OF ALL THE THINGS! BUY NEW ONES!), and wound up with a gray skirt and a gray tank top. That's not acceptable, so I unearthed some color (yay!), and was quite pleased with it! I even got a cool Anthro-esque shot, er, in my kitchen:
Of course, on two hours of sleep, no breakfast and too much black tea, upon arriving at work, this is a much more accurate representation of how I feel:
Today is also, of course, class night, so who knows how that's going to end up. As the person who used not Red Bull, not espresso, but Gatorade to keep her wired enough to stay up all weekend and write her Fundies exam in college, you'd think I'd know better by now. Maybe I was hoping I'd have outgrown my ridiculously sensitive glands, or whatever it is that processes caffeine. The lesson, however, is learned: no iced tea, certainly not on an emptyish stomach, unless you're prepared to face the consequences.
This entry was originally posted on Dreamwidth, where it has
comments. Feel free to drop in using OpenID.