But I Like my Crack - I Mean, Coffee!

My skull is threatening to split right down the middle and free my brain. I mean it. This brain - this rambling, wandering, slightly twisted brain - could be knocking on your front door in the morning looking for a place to sleep.

I messed up. I did not make the coffee last night. Then I topped that off with sleeping in this morning. Daddy-O was so busy trying to figure out why there was a naked - and I mean not a stitch, naked - child in our bed and why I spent the night on the couch with baby feet in my face; that he forgot to make the coffee. By the time everything was sorted out, I had to rush through a shower and whip some kids into clothes in order to make it to church on time.

Oh well, I said to myself as I tried not to die while descending the stairs in 3 inch heels and a caffeine withdrawal fog. I'll just grab some coffee at the welcome center at church. I'll be fine! Munch intervened and decided that a meltdown at the nursery door would make a good beanus interruptus.

I made it through church by praying that the headache at the back of my skull was still controllable. Beloved has made a pot of coffee and it is waiting for me at home. I'll have a cup before I go to the grocery store. Wrong. He went to Dunkin Donuts for his coffee and by the time I got home Tuck was determined that we were going to the grocery store on a date NOW!!

No caffeine today. None. I usually have a pot before 10 am and three more cups of strong tea before 3 pm. At 8 pm I could take no more. I brewed a cup of tea, downed three Motrin and prayed that duct tape can hold a person's head together.

If my brain shows up on your door step tell it that you talked to me and that there is a pot brewing and one on standby. Oh! And Juan Valdez is coming for lunch.