Turns out, caffeine withdrawals make me feel like a shrew. I have never felt more like ripping people's heads off for inadequate reasons. Like the kid on Trax who sang Niel Diamond songs, loud, and off key, all the way from Abravanel Hall to Meadowbrook. It is a miracle, and also a sign that I was extremely tired, that he escaped with his jugular intact. Seriously. He danced.
Or the guy who cut people off three people in a row on the freeway yesterday, unneccesarily. Really. He cut me off and then zigzagged back into the other lane, cutting off car number two, then again into my lane right in front of the guy in front of me. There was no point except to purposely provoke road rage! I bet the evil demon on his shoulder was in a really good mood, egging on that jerk fest. On a scale of "annoyed" to "seriously angsty and prone to swearing", my blood pressure is somewhere in the range of "gonna maim the next person who has the audacity to speak to me".
Long story short, that diet coke relapse last week has left me feeling shrewish and witchy once more. I have been humming calming songs to myself to keep from acting on the shrewish witchy urges, and I may actually make it through the week without getting fired for yelling at the rude, loud, aggravating people who order pizza from me. But if one more person gets mad at me for taking half off the cheaper pizza, it's gonna be close. (Am I allowed to blog about customers if I don't say names? hmm)
Conclusion. I'm never drinking diet coke again. I thought we could have a healthy, controlled relationship. But it's just not gonna happen, because I have an astonishingly small amount of self control in this area of life. So here's to getting back on the wagon, and in a good mood.