Margaritaville

"...it could be my fault."



Margarita's aren't my thing and I think I have evidence that proves this is for the best. You know how some people tend to be easily addicted to substances like alcohol, nicotine, etc. Yeah, I think I must be one of those.



I love myself. Not in a weird way but in the normal takes care of myself, tries to maintain a relatively healthy lifestyle, and avoids bodily harm when possible kinda way. I don't intentionally bring pain and agony into my life but my recent UN-intentional escapades are really getting annoying. You all know about the prune situation. By the end of that episode my colon was so clean it could've been used as IV tubing. I'm such an idiot. What have I done now?



As I said, Margarita's aren't my thing but coffee is. Or at least it started to be. About two weeks ago I made the random decision that real women probably drink coffee every morning. I wanted to be a real woman so I began fixing a cup or two of "Joe" to go along with my breakfast. No problem. I was even learning to cut back on the ridiculous amounts of sugar I think are necessary to make it palatable. I was feeling like a real woman. Oh yeah! And then...



I forgot to buy coffee filters. I used the last one on Tuesday and yes, I know that real coffee drinkers would have found some creative method (paper towel, cheesecloth, oil filter) or just washed the previously used filter and ran it back through but I had not yet achieved that kind of commitment level. So, I did what seemed perfectly natural. I just didn't drink any coffee yesterday. All day. Or this morning. Mistake. H-U-G-E mistake!



I woke up with a mild headache and my sweet husband rubbed my neck and back before heading out to work. It helped for about three minutes. By ten o'clock this morning I was in big trouble. It hurt to move my eyes and I could only manage to say two or three words at a time because my soft pallet would moisten and I would have to breathe deeply to keep my oatmeal down where it belonged. This worked out great for Mamoune who was having a lying issue. I had to let her off so I could run and hover over the toilet. Having your mom vomit all over you seems a bit harsh even for what I consider a serious offense.



I made it to the couch about the time my friend Gloria stopped by. She's like family and it's a good thing since I lovingly informed her that I could not talk to her nor look at her, but I was perfectly capable of listening if she felt like sharing. We speculated about whether or not I was fighting off a virus and it was during this mostly one-sided discussion that the caffeine withdrawal theory hit me. I made one last attempt at communication by calling Tim to come home from work. Then I sent Gloria to the store to get me a Coke -or anything with caffeine in it. That's right. I needed a fix and she hooked me up. My little enabler. =)



Tim came home. Gloria left for work. I took a few swigs of my new carbonated best friend and slept the rest of the morning and lunch hour away. I did drift out of my dozing long enough to hear Mamoune's lunch time prayer that I would feel better soon. She basically admitted later that it was bologna and that she was hoping I was down for the night so there was no chance she would be retried for previous crimes. I figure lying to me is one thing but if she's gonna lie directly to God, I can let Him handle that one.

I woke up completely recovered! Not even a tinge of a headache remaining. I released Tim to go back to work and spent the rest of the day sipping my Coke and feeling really good. I think I've learned my lesson but I may need to start attending the Celebrate Recovery meeting our church has on Thursday nights.


"Hello. My name is Amie..."