Deutsch: “Kopfschmerzen” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Oh, my God.  Week from Hell.  Worst.  Week.  Ever!  to quit caffeine.  There needs to be some kind of Caffeine Anonymous program with sponsors you can call when things get tough:  “Man, I don’t know what to do.  I got three hours of sleep, I have ten errands to run after work, and my computer just blew up.  It would be so much easier to deal with all of this if I could just have some caffeine.”  “Take a deep breath, Little Blind Girl.  You can do this.  Just take it one day at a time.”

I made it through the week, more or less, with rather less in the way of running and rather more in the way of beer and Italian restaurants (sorry, Doc), but only a little more.  I thought I was safe on the weekend.  I’d done the hard part.  I’d gotten through Hell Week without caffeine.  It was Sunday evening.  What could possibly go wrong now?

Slight digression:  there are things you must never say, or even think.  They are as follows:

1. I’ll be right back.
2. Everything’s under control.
3. It’s probably nothing.
4. What does this button do?
5. What could possibly go wrong?

Lesson learned.  No sooner had I said this to myself than my Darling Dad called and wanted to know everything about my savings and retirement situations right then over the phone, down to the last penny in the accounts and the tax consequences in the event that I predecease both parents but am survived by my step-nephew.  And he needed to know it immediately!  Slight exaggeration, but only slight.  I don’t have a step-nephew.  That I know of.

I dealt with Darling Dad, hung up the phone, sighed, and decided I needed a soda.  A non-caffeinated one, obviously.  So I started off to the convenience store across the street and what did I find hanging on the handle of my apartment door?  Was it the decapitated head of my pet horse?  A voodoo doll of me with a pin through each eye?  No.  No, it was something far worse, something calculated to cut through all of my defenses and bring me to my knees in mere seconds.

It was a bag of three bottles of Mountain Dew soda.

They were probably from my neighbor trying to be nice, after I’d had such a hard week and all (the nightmares may have clued him in, with me shouting “No!  I swear!  I’ll get the report in by Tuesday!” at 2 in the morning), but really I think it was the Karma Gods coming for me.  It’s only fair.  I knew better.

Now to publish this blog post.  So many widgets and banners and buttons on these blogs…what does this button do?

Mirage Volcano 2 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ll be right back!