I just finished my third cup of tea in two hours, and I can tell it was at least one cup too much. I’ve been using the Scottish Beverage Approach to Problem Solving, step one of which involves copious amounts of tea. I have been attempting to tea myself into finishing my essay.
And now I can tell that I have had too much.
It starts with a queasy, nauseous feeling, accompanied by a nervous hum in the veins. I feel like running to bleed off the excess energy, but give it even odds that running would result in puking. Not to mention the fact that I should be sitting, right here, writing my essay. Typing, however, is not physical enough to satisfy the buzzing humming thrumming demand for motion. You feel it at the base of your spine, warm and insistent, radiating outward, begging for running dancing kicking jumping flying.This is the kind of energy that is well suited to starting fist fights, to sprinting, to whirling twirling skimming low across the grass, to rough and tumble, to scaling cities like they were concrete jungle gyms.
However, since those are not an option, I will sit, ignoring the electric humming of my blood, and try to write my essay.
This is why I hate uppers.