I Am Beginning To Suspect I Am Over-Caffinated.

When I make coffee, I feel like I'm playing at being a drug dealer. Not that I have experience with dealers, but like one portrayed by the media.

I measure beans out into the grinder. The whirring sound comes at the push of a button, and really freaking loud. Even though there's no one else in the apartment, I look around guiltily.

I prepare the paper, smoothing the edges out just right. I have forgotten to buy new filters, and must rig a system using two paper towels and a paper clip. Any way to get my fix.

I bang on the grinder, tapping all the stuff out into the top so I can get at it without the bothersome blades.

I get out my measuring spoon. I scrape and tap, tap, so I get two tablespoons. I get a butter knife so I can scrape it off the top and make it perfect. Then I mess up my measuring by just tossing another half a spoonful or so into the filter paper, and just kind of adding about the right amount of water.

Then I wander away and do stuff while waiting for the pot to grow (I mean fill).

When my morning brain remembers that the pot's just sitting there, ready for me to smoke  drink it, I wander back over and pour a cup. I'm slightly disappointed, I should have paid better attention to how much water I use to cut my coffee. It looks weak.

I smell the cup. Which is a mistake because I think brewed coffee smells like ass.

(Not like actual ass. I'm using a cussword to demonstrate how bad I think brewed coffee smells. Ground coffee=smells great. Brewed coffee=does not smell great.)

Then I add my sweetener packets I stole from a restaurant. Hey, free splenda. Don't judge me. I shake and tap the vial packet to make sure all the air bubbles are out scientifically engineered sugar is at the bottom of the envelope.

Then I add two ice cubes because I am a wuss and hot coffee is too hot.

I even have a special spoon I like to use to stir my coffee.

Then I take my hit. Ahhhh.......

(I guess that pot of coffee wasn't so weak after all)

Stuff I've discovered this week.

1. Twitter.

My third post was about poop. As this is what I believe Twitter was invented for, I am content. Further exploring found me a girl, @kimmyisahorror, who I am now following with bated breath, waiting for her to reach her stated goal of 60 pounds and die of anorexia. This is also what Twitter is for.

2. Snuggies

Skeptical at first, but I got one at the company Christmas party last night as (probably the best part of) gift exchange. I wandered around the place where I work wearing a leopard print Snuggie and carrying a beer and laughing at my boss singing karaoke. Score!

Trying not to think that all a Snuggie or a slanket is, is a backwards robe. Whoever thought of this is a genius, and I hope they made a lot of money. Now wearing mine as a robe, and trying not to give myself a headache with the paradox.

3. Tim Minchin.

I don't know how I missed this guy. Awesomeness. Thanks, @neilhimself, for another great referral. Love your stuff.

Feed Me!

I had surgery three weeks ago on my jaw. They broke it and realigned it and told me I couldn't eat for six weeks. I've halfway through my smoothie diet and I miss eating.

Eating is such a social event. Not eating lets you realize this. People chat and eat, and when there's someone at the table who's not doing much of either, they get kind of awkward.

There's also a lot of women who say "Oh, I should get that surgery" when I tell them I lost fifteen pounds. Well, it's a lot less expensive to get a membership to a gym, people. They've even got nutritionists on staff that can tell you what I've learned. If you drink a shake with protein and fiber, you're not hungry again for at least four hours. Or at least you can tell yourself this, particularly if you are going to be around people who are eating.

Yes, I miss eating, but I'm not eyeing every bite you take like you're insulting me by eating in front of me. I don't like eating (in my own little way) in front of people right now. I'm kind of messy and gross because eating with a half-numb mouth leads to drips. And people who are spilling food all over themselves are nearly as bad as people who aren't eating at all.

Strangers who talk to me get a particular look. This is why I hate talking to people and it makes me worse. Strangers get this look when I talk, like "is she retarded or deaf?" because I've got a lisp because of the retainer, and part of my mouth doesn't move because of the nerve damage.

Anybody reading this who doesn't know me is gonna think I'm all broken. It's not bad, really. I'll get better and someday soon you wont even notice it.

But I miss the social eating experience.