My friend thanked me for driving so far though I’d have happily driven anywhere to support her. I did, however, kinda feel like I’d earned a trophy for getting up so early. In lieu of that, I ignored the protests of my dress pants and rewarded myself with a visit to a candy shop in a village that was so picture perfect it could have been built by Disney. I discovered dark chocolate covered espresso beans there. I’d heard about them from other addicts, I mean chocolate-lovers (same difference).
Tonight, as the night grew late and the moon found its proper position in the sky and the yawns began anew, my nightly write-a-thon was safe. A new weapon was in my arsenal. Now it is confession time. I’ve never admitted this before, because I think I could get thrown out of the writing world for it. I don’t drink coffee. Oh, of course I have an occasional dark chocolate raspberry pretend coffee made with decaf. Or a caramel frappuccino – decaf. It’s simply that my friends and family had a restraining order issued against caffeine and me many years ago.
Apparently I have the physiology of a coral reef. If someone drinks a cup of coffee or wine in my hemisphere I can feel the effects of it by sheer osmosis. I need no stimulants. Yet tonight, I am determined, I have a looming deadline and it will be met. So in went those espresso beans. They must be an acquired taste, and this coming from a woman who eats tofu and Boca burgers, because I ended up swallowing them whole – like pills. Maybe they just taste good and I’m not used to that. At any rate I can confirm that they work, quite well, and after I finish my novel in the next few hours I’m going to go for a jog, clean my attic and rearrange the furniture. If anyone has a book signing tomorrow, anywhere, give me a shout out. I’ve discovered my antidote to mornings.