The Return To Innocence

This vanilla latte is from the new Korean deli downstairs. It is more bitter than the Starbucks version; maybe I have been spoiled, as Starbucks vanilla lattes are always sweet to me. Interestingly enough, I think this one is more expensive.

I took my pain/mood supplements immediately this morning: DLPA, Carnitine, Ashwagandha, Shatavari, Neem, MSM. I have discovered, almost by accident, that Neem extract has powerful anti-inflammatory and pain-supressing effects similar to ibuprofen. My research has confirmed this. I have added neem to my regimen. It is also a poweful anti-fungal, anti-bacterial, anti-viral, and even a spermicide/contraceptive (approved in India; although I refuse to take a chance to test that claim yet, I'm happy with the BC Pill, and heck, neem might prove a good back-up).
I took some prescription methocarbomol last night, which was lovely for my muscles and tension. I do wish I could take it long term, but it can be dangerous. I'll stick with what works for me and is less dangerous, despite the fact that most people doubt it all.

Priceless: Being woken up from a dream by a kitten insistent on draping herself across the back of my neck and licking my ear while purring. It tickles.

Because of Puff's emergency vet visit, and because I wouldn't dare let myself miss Heroes (by the time I got upstairs to the bedroom and turned on the television, it was exactly nine o'clock), and because of unexpected stress and adrenaline, I found myself coming downstairs around ten and turning on my laptop. Adam, Dan, Jason, Lena, and Jay were watching the movie "Hard Candy" on the projector screen. I was half paying attention (I was also reading the Wikipedia summary of the film and knew that the seemingly innocent teenage girl was anything but and that the pedophile would die at the end). I reminded Adam that he needed to be in Crystal City at seven in the morning, which meant getting up at five-thirty and leaving at six. I would go with him, so he could use the HOV lanes, and so that I could get an early start myself, and so that I wouldn't have to stand at a bus stop in frigid temperatures.
Around eleven, we went upstairs. Adam gave Puff her first dose of antibiotics, which she took rather well, considering no cat likes having a dropper forced into the side of her mouth. We petted her and cuddled her, the fluffy skinny thing she was, with her long rainbow hair and her princess face and her teeny tiny meow, even though she's eight years old. She pet us back, and curled up near my feet wearing that ridiculously cute bonnet collar, and purred and purred. I do feel something for Puff, but eight years of her being skittish and me not really getting close have resulted in me not loving her the way I should. I care deeply for her, but she is not beloved.
Adam and I held each other and talked until midnight. I let my stress out, and my sadness over the loss of Tuesday, and he felt me crying quietly and murmured, "Oh, honey... you're sad!" And I kept saying it was just stress, but yes, I was also sad.
I only got five and a half hours of sleep. This makes me more prone to seizures and asthma attacks, which thankfully did not happen. I followed Adam to the ballroom where he had set up yesterday, and before I left I walked all the way down the long long tunnel to the Crystal City Shops and to the drugstore and brought him back a Sobe Adrenaline Rush, at his request. The other techs thought that was cute.
Since it was only seven-thirty by the time I got to the Gallery Place Metro, I stopped and ate breakfast, which is rare, because I cannot eat a real meal early in the mornings, not without several hours to prepare, or I will get sick. However, I'd had two hours of moving and walking, and had Pepto Bismol tablets in my purse just in case. I stopped in at Camille's Sidewalk Cafe across the street from work, and ate an Herb Garden Sunrise Natu-Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, jasmine rice, scrambled eggs, chives, pesto mayo). My stomach deemed it okay. For lunch, I came back and ordered a Michaelangelo Grilled Hot Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, grilled chicken breast, red onions, roasted red peppers, mozzarella, black olives, thyme, rosemary, balsamic glaze). And -- as the title so says -- I went to Starbucks and got a medium vanilla latte. Oh how I needed it. Oh how it made me feel a hundred times better. Five-thirty on a frozen, single-digit morning is not fun. Caffeine in my veins and it is warm and sweet and milky and I am finally, finally awake.

Because of Puff's emergency vet visit, and because I wouldn't dare let myself miss Heroes (by the time I got upstairs to the bedroom and turned on the television, it was exactly nine o'clock), and because of unexpected stress and adrenaline, I found myself coming downstairs around ten and turning on my laptop. Adam, Dan, Jason, Lena, and Jay were watching the movie "Hard Candy" on the projector screen. I was half paying attention (I was also reading the Wikipedia summary of the film and knew that the seemingly innocent teenage girl was anything but and that the pedophile would die at the end). I reminded Adam that he needed to be in Crystal City at seven in the morning, which meant getting up at five-thirty and leaving at six. I would go with him, so he could use the HOV lanes, and so that I could get an early start myself, and so that I wouldn't have to stand at a bus stop in frigid temperatures.
Around eleven, we went upstairs. Adam gave Puff her first dose of antibiotics, which she took rather well, considering no cat likes having a dropper forced into the side of her mouth. We petted her and cuddled her, the fluffy skinny thing she was, with her long rainbow hair and her princess face and her teeny tiny meow, even though she's eight years old. She pet us back, and curled up near my feet wearing that ridiculously cute bonnet collar, and purred and purred. I do feel something for Puff, but eight years of her being skittish and me not really getting close have resulted in me not loving her the way I should. I care deeply for her, but she is not beloved.
Adam and I held each other and talked until midnight. I let my stress out, and my sadness over the loss of Tuesday, and he felt me crying quietly and murmured, "Oh, honey... you're sad!" And I kept saying it was just stress, but yes, I was also sad.
I only got five and a half hours of sleep. This makes me more prone to seizures and asthma attacks, which thankfully did not happen. I followed Adam to the ballroom where he had set up yesterday, and before I left I walked all the way down the long long tunnel to the Crystal City Shops and to the drugstore and brought him back a Sobe Adrenaline Rush, at his request. The other techs thought that was cute.
Since it was only seven-thirty by the time I got to the Gallery Place Metro, I stopped and ate breakfast, which is rare, because I cannot eat a real meal early in the mornings, not without several hours to prepare, or I will get sick. However, I'd had two hours of moving and walking, and had Pepto Bismol tablets in my purse just in case. I stopped in at Camille's Sidewalk Cafe across the street from work, and ate an Herb Garden Sunrise Natu-Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, jasmine rice, scrambled eggs, chives, pesto mayo). My stomach deemed it okay. For lunch, I came back and ordered a Michaelangelo Grilled Hot Wrap (herb-garlic tortilla, grilled chicken breast, red onions, roasted red peppers, mozzarella, black olives, thyme, rosemary, balsamic glaze). And -- as the title so says -- I went to Starbucks and got a medium vanilla latte. Oh how I needed it. Oh how it made me feel a hundred times better. Five-thirty on a frozen, single-digit morning is not fun. Caffeine in my veins and it is warm and sweet and milky and I am finally, finally awake.