I was kissing my fantasy boyfriend and making a gourmet dinner with him in my sky-high penthouse suite in Manhattan when my alarm rang this morning. Dammit. The alarm never goes off when I’m in the middle of a bad dream, only the good ones, I swear it’s some sort of conspiracy.
I sat up and tried to get my bearings, but it took a while. I kept losing my train of thought. I bumbled, stumbled to the bathroom and sat there, wondering what I would have made for dessert for my fantasy boyfriend, and was it chocolate, and jeebus I hope so.
While putting on makeup, I ran out of three products. Concurrently. That's weird, isn't that weird. Knowing I’d never remember what they were by the time I slunk downstairs, I put the empty packaging in my pants pocket to add them to my grocery list. I almost forgot once downstairs…I couldn’t remember what to put in my lunch bag, and did I eat lunch?, and am I sure I’m not just dreaming this too?
I managed the drive to work. I sat down and was overcome with the feeling that if I didn’t have caffeine, and in large doses, I would surely die. Die a horrible, twitching, lonely death. Given that I gave up caffeine months ago, and have started my second cup of caffeinated coffee splendor, this morning will certainly be interesting.