Two days ago I experimented with Caffeine.
In the morning I grabbed a Redbull… why? Because I’m one of those freaky time weirdos out there that actually enjoy the flavor of the toxic internal organ staining stuff. During the 40 minute car ride to work, I downed the elixir and ate some left over Chex mix found in my garbage pail of a car.
Sexy.
By the time I got to work, I decided the choices I made in the morning were smart. I was buzzing… whirling like a newly oiled tin man. E-mails- check! Assignments- check! You got a question, dear student?-check! Clean desk- check! Check! Check! Check! I could almost hear the ding of a bell in my head every time I successfully accomplished a task at hand.
It was magic, until I realized that this energy- though it felt natural and easy- was completely fabricated by the consumption of massive amounts of sugar and whatever other voodoo spells they put in that tiny blue and silver can. Not wanting to loose my high- I zipped to the coffee kiosk to get my daily cup of coffee and Latina attitude from the Barista. I normally get a medium- but since I was already jacked up on caffeine, “A large, please…” blurted from my lips. What? Why? How?
Sitting at the reference desk, I felt a nervous energy start to vibrate through out my limbs. The coffee put me over the edge… but I continued to answer questions and work though the daily tasks at a heightened speed. Which continued to increase… and increase… and increase… until, I could literally feel my heart pulsating though my left bosom. When there was wasn’t anything to type, I watched, helplessly as my fingers ghost typed on the keyboard. A student would arrive at the desk, lazily garbling a question out for me to answer, which I would reply with a rapid,
“Yes! Okay! Let’s do it! Come on! Follow me, the book is this way!” Charging onward into the stacks while they followed me with wide eyed mystery.
When lunch rolled around, I had already planned out the specific CDs I would lend to my dad, figured out an efficient path to his house so I could get gas on the way- and constructed what I would steal from his fridge using a visual picture of what was available from my last visit . When I arrived, I made my sandwich, and tried to hide the fevered pitch of my caffeine high from his mellow demeanor. My father must have not picked up on this, because he automatically offered me a Coca-Cola.
I was at a crossroads… I didn’t know if my body could handle the extra dosage of this wonder drug… but then again, I knew I was heading for a head on collision with the post 4pm work malaise.
“Alright… Let’s do this.” I muttered taking the gleaming red can from my dad’s finger tips. My hands quivered as they carefully popped the tab.
Sitting back at work, this time in my office, I was alone with my high. I swerved back and forth in my chair- occasionally leaning back in the seat to test the limits to how far the chair could stretch. Suddenly I felt it in my stomach… it was almost as if the organ was groaning,
“ohhhhh what did you DO TO ME?!?!”
“I dunno…” I groaned back, and slumped low in my seat. In a matter of hours, I had gone from a wunderkind to a lump of turd-crap wasting away in the corner, barely enough energy to knock off the flies. No longer ghost typing, I looked at my withered phalanges as they lay dormant at the edge of my keyboard, and wondered aloud, “What happened to me.”
My boss peaked into my office, took one look at me, and said, “Nnekay, is it time to go home?”
“yes…” poured like thick liquid out of my mouth, “it’s time to go home.”