Discover Top Posts Tagged with #caffeine overload

Oh dear, I have made an error. I’ve lost count of the number of cups of tea I’ve had in the last couple of hours, and that’s never good...

#British Problems #Caffeine overload #I'll start twitching very soon

7 Foods You Eat That Spike Your Stress Levels

#caffeine effects #caffeine overload #food and stress #stress #stress hormones #stress management #stress relief #stress response #sugar impact #sugar spikes

Drank wayyyy too much coffee today and now all types of jazzed up.

#mine #tummy ache #caffeine overload #plus the nootropics

I just bought two large iced coffees for myself because I had a buy one get one free coupon. I'm gonna be buzzin'. ☕️😵‍💫

#personal #coffee #iced coffee #caffeine overload

Coffee

He was tired…so very tired, to the point of bone-weary, semi-zoned, reality is breaking apart tired. Phil had a few more hours on this report if he was lucky, and if not it would be an all-night task. He was working late on a Friday night and there was no one in the office. This was both a good and a bad thing. Good because he wasn’t going to be distracted by unnecessary interruptions, but bad because he had to make his own coffee. He didn’t have time to run anywhere to get some. He needed every extra minute to work on the reports. He shook his head and pinched and slapped his forty-something face a few times in a vain attempt to wake himself up. It was no use he would have to go downstairs to brew some coffee.

He rose slowly and stretched, his slightly rotund figure complaining at the novelty of movement. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to take a quick break and come back to work refreshed. The reports were due by 7 a.m. the next day, Saturday and it was only 11 p.m. night. Besides, if he expected to remain awake long enough to finish them, he would simply have to forage for coffee.

He walked to the elevator, the swishing of his dress slacks set a soundtrack to his journey. He wished he’d thought to bring a change of clothes, because an all-nighter in business clothes was particularly excruciating. He’d long since shed his coat and tie and had rolled his shirt sleeves up revealing the stark white arms of a white collar worker. He entered the elevator but was still preoccupied with the reports and forgot what he was doing and pushed the ground floor button out of habit. The elevator was halfway through its’ descent when he realized his mistake. He quickly pushed the button for the second floor, but the elevator didn’t respond. It lurched a moment then continued on it's course downward. Phil sighed. “I guess a bit of a detour won’t hurt me.” The elevator finally ground to a halt in the basement.

He’d never been in the basement before. He decided that he wasn’t curious enough to walk around. He jammed on the button for the first floor and the button that closed the doors for good measure. The doors stayed open, and the elevator acted broken. “That does it!” He said storming into the hallway in the chilly basement. He would just have to take the stairs. He wandered around for a little while searching for the route back up.

He found a small break room that had a coffee pot with some day old coffee, and a bag of ground coffee. He was glad to see the coffee and poured himself a bit after locating a styrofoam cup. The coffee was stale and tasted nasty, and there was no sugar to be found. Still it helped him clear his head. As he didn’t know how much coffee was in his own break room, if he could ever get there, he decided to take the package of coffee with him.

He wandered around a bit more, but due to his fatigue he could not for the life of him discover the stairway. The basement was more labyrinthine than it had first appeared. He finally stumbled back to the main hallway where the elevator was still waiting as if it had been looking for his arrival all along. All in all, Phil figured he’d wasted a good twenty minutes searching for the stairs. He was relieved that when he entered the elevator, the doors closed and the elevator ascended smoothly to the second floor.

He hurried to the break room and grabbed the coffee maker and the second bag of coffee crystals along with all the cream and sugar he could carry. He was going to have coffee goddammit, but he wouldn’t risk taking any more breaks to get it. He would bring the coffee along to his office and it would save him valuable time. The coffee maker was of the smaller variety; a six cup affair. Relocating the coffee maker was the best idea he’d had yet, but that was why he got paid the big bucks. He would be able to brew as much coffee as he needed and still get his work done.

He was more than a bit relieved when the elevator functioned perfectly once again and delivered him politely back to the third floor. The office looked so bleak and barren with the vast electric lights illuminating the solitude, as he wandered toward his office. He had a corner office and he deserved it. He’d worked hard for it and had given up family and a personal life for the glory of the working world. His sacrifices had paid off. He was close to making partner.

He set the coffee machine on his mahogany desk, unconcerned that it would probably leave a mark on the dark wood, and quickly started it up. Now he could finish his reports in peace. The bag of coffee from his office break room only contained enough to make half a batch, so he was very glad that he’d had the foresight to grab the extra bag from the room in the basement. He joyfully added enough from that bag, and after securing water from the faucet in his private bathroom, started the coffee maker.

He sat back down at his desk and opened up the reports on his computer. They were right as he'd left them. He sighed in relief. He’d saved them of course. He was neurotic about the save function anyway, but he still worried a bit. So much hinged on his ability to get them completed and delivered on time. He wouldn’t be calm until the reports were officially done and sent out. He worked quickly and made good progress.

As he worked he could smell the coffee as it percolated down into the empty coffee pot. Drip drop drip the coffee maker sounded out as if to make him aware of its' valuable presence. It echoed loudly as there were no other sounds in the office to mask the monotonous drops. “Man, that’s annoying!” He laughed aloud to himself, but it would all be worth it, once he could drink that first cup of fresh coffee. Drip drop, click clack, the inter-changing conversation between the coffee pot and his keyboard were rather hypnotic.

Drip drop click drip click drop splash. Phil felt his eyes growing heavier as he fought to continue his reports. “No! I mustn’t!” He only had a few hours. He needed to focus. The coffee was finally done. He poured himself a cup and decided that he would drink it black as he didn’t have time for the sugar and cream to dissolve. Plus, he counted on the bitterness of the straight black scalding draft to assist in reawakening him. He downed the hot bitter liquid in one long draught. He was unconcerned that it burnt his tongue and his insides as it slipped down his parched throat.

He slurped the last of his cup down and paused for a moment to do a self-assessment. Still tired. “I need another cup.” He reached for the pitcher and poured quickly, spilling a little bit on his pant leg. He laughed as it hadn’t burnt him. Caffeine was his friend. In just moments, he felt wide awake and ready to finish his reports. He sat back down at his desk, with his third cup of coffee waiting near him, the steam rising from the cup with a gentle taunt. It was there in expectation for the next time he needed it. Now those reports would be done in a flash. He typed like a whirling dervish, his narrow nimble fingers seeking out the keys on his behalf.

The hours passed with little interruption except when he paused to get another cup of coffee or to brew a new batch, or to run to the restroom. Phil lost track of how much he’d drunk, and was only aware of the disjointed blur of breakneck progress that he was making. His routine became one of make coffee, run to the restroom, work, drink coffee until gone, make coffee, run to the restroom etc.

It was 6:45 a.m. Saturday morning and he was finally done with his reports, and he realized that the darkness outside his office window had lessened considerably. He’d finished with not a moment to spare. He glanced once more at the data on the reports to verify its’ accuracy, then packaged them into a file format and attached them to a company wide email. He hit send. He'd gotten the reports out about ten minutes before the deadline. He felt tremendous euphoria. Everything had turned out perfectly. He was so happy to be done with the reports. He was just about to clean up the coffee maker and had decided to pour himself one last cup to make the weary journey home, when he heard an email reply come in. He hurried back to his computer to check it. Surely it was a reply to his reports; a congratulatory email or possibly a thank you email. When he opened his email his caffeinated cheerfulness dissipated rapidly as his heart sank to the floor.

The email from his boss was simply a string of question marks and screenshots of his reports with lots of red highlighted circles and arrows. At first, it took him a moment to understand, then he dropped his cup of coffee on the floor, the brown liquid puddled unattractively on the carpet which hungrily soaked it up.

He was oblivious to the spreading chaos. He stared uncomprehendingly at the screen in front of him, his numbers were all correct but he’d replaced all the graphics and charts with pictures of coffee cups. He’d also repeatedly inserted different messages about coffee. His whole report was now about coffee. Even the fonts and colors had become coffee colored.

The email from his boss ended with the statement “Where are the real reports? That’s a great joke, but you’d better stop fooling around.”

Phil practically fell over as he scrambled with his mouse. He opened up his reports on his computer, and tried in vain to find one that wasn’t filled to the brim with coffee references. “Augh!!” He screamed and pulled his thinning mouse colored hair. “That’s impossible!” But no matter how hard he searched through all of the files, both the older and newer versions, the coffee remained. Like a stain, it had spread and taken over all the reports, not a single page or workbook was left untouched. The coffee was pervasive and it left traces of itself everywhere.

Then both his office and cell phones started ringing. Phil knew that he should pick up, but he decided against it. More emails from the other partners flooded in. “Ha! You’re a riot Phil, but please send the correct reports now that you’ve had your fun.”

It was over for Phil and he felt a maniacal laugh bubbling up in the back of his throat. He stared as more and more emails came in; all of them demanding the corrected reports. How could he explain that they had coffee stains on them, would it even make sense to them?

He opted not to respond or do anything at all. Instead of handling the emergency, he walked over to the coffee machine. There was still more coffee to make. He would just sit there and drink coffee while his career tanked. Cup after cup, Sip after sip he drank. Drip drop, sip sip, sob sob. He drank all the coffee that was in the package from the basement. Then he went to get more. He went to all the break rooms in the whole building and stole every last ounce of coffee and brought his loot back to his office.

All weekend, Saturday and Sunday he drank coffee and watched his emails pile up like a pending avalanche that threatened destruction. He watched his voicemails fill to the brim, just like his coffee cup. His cup was never empty for long now. He'd gotten a second pitcher from another coffee maker and would switch between the two for brewing the latest batch. He avoided everything else. His hands grew shakier and his heart raced as he anticipated Monday morning when everyone would return to the office. He couldn’t think of a way to get out of it. He’d messed up and he’d avoided everyone. How could he recover from this gaffe?

It was 5 a.m. Monday morning and Phil hadn’t slept a wink. He’d only consumed coffee. He realized that at some point he would have to take the coffee maker back downstairs. He’d now gone through all but one bag of the coffee he’d collected from the other offices.

His intention was to take the coffee maker downstairs to the break room with the last batch of coffee waiting for his soon to be ex-coworkers and then turn tail and run away. He watched the coffee filter slowly through the machine and out into the glass pitcher. It was done. He was done. He reached for another cup, his hands shaking as badly as a centenarian. He couldn’t pour the coffee into his cup. His muscles wouldn't respond to his commands. In frustration, Phil turned the whole pitcher into his personal coffee cup and proceeded to drink directly out of it. The liquid was nearly scalding, however he’d already burned his mouth so often over the last few days, and his mind was numbed beyond all feeling, so he hardly noticed. Small trickles of the coffee dribbled its’ way out of the corners of his mouth, and onto his shirt and pants. Where the drops fell, they left brown stains that spread like mini targets across his chest.

He slurped harder to ignore the hotness on his chest, he would have every last drop. No coffee for anyone else, since they didn’t appreciate coffee so much after all! During his final gulps, his heart lurched forward at its’ fastest pace yet and he reeled dropping the glass pitcher which shattered on the corner of his desk.

Phil fell to the ground, his heart giving out due to the combined stress of his mistake and the caffeine overload. He fell with hands forward onto a few shards of glass that pierced his skin. As the blood trickled out it added a red stain to the coffee colored one of earlier, mixing like some ancient magical potion and creating a new brew that smelled of rusty sadness and lost hope.

#my writing #coffee #caffeine overload

I drank multiple cups of coffee to prepare writing throughout the night. But I'm now certain that I have too much caffeine in my system because my head is trobbing.

#writing process #writing #coffee #caffeine overload #too much coffee #i got a headache #not the expected outcome #fml