case of the ____days

I often have bursts of creativity and resolve after 10 p.m. Last night, I made a pact with myself. That I would wake up in the morning and eat cereal and eggs, have as few grams of not-directly-from-fruit sugars as possible during the day, and go to the gym and do at least 45 minutes of cardiovascular activities.

I would allow myself a single frosty can of Diet Coke.

After a late-night trip to the grocery, I came home and made my lunches for the next TWO days. I wrote down what kind of fuel I would need and when I would need it. I went to sleep with that “hope for a better day” feeling. These changes would eliminate some of my troubles – my constant fatigue-dragginess when I’m at work, the sugar-caffeine crash at 1:00 p.m., the ache-ache-ache-ACHE in my muscles, thanks to Jillian Michaels who has given me hyper-exercised gams that now seem to need daily attention.

I woke up feeling exhausted, barely hungry, and convinced I was pregnant*.

I skipped the eggs, lacking both appetite and time.

I couldn’t figure out where my daily morning coffee beverage fit into this equation, so I passed by the gas station (and the back up gas station) and the Starbucks (and the BACK UP back up gas station) on my way to work. And my head hit my desk in a moment of pure “WHY AM I AWAKE??!” frustration. The feeling where you start to consider the logical reasoning that could lead you under your desk for a nap. (If smokers get a smoke break, Facebook addicts get multiple Facebook breaks, if I’m allowed at least one 15-minute-break… doesn’t that add up to at LEAST a forty-fiver with a blanket and pillow under my desk?)

Suffering from a calorie deficit, I go to lunch at 11:30. Unwrapping my carefully assembled lunch, there is dismay. Where is my crunchy-salty something? Where is my fruit? I eat my steamed green beans, my microwave burritoquesadilla, and in a fit of sugar-craving, I eat the  PB&CherryButter sandwich that was supposed to be the car snack to fuel my after work work-out.

And heck if I’m going to put that can of Diet Pepsi in the fridge! That will take HOURS to cool! This Diet Pepsi is now the only good thing in my day, except for The Peach.

The Peach. Oh, lordy. My family has returned from the Southern climes, and my one request was peaches. Peaches from the side of the road. They were delivered via shoe box, each peach carefully wrapped in paper towels, which is convenient, because this is the kind of peach that drips down your chin, the kind of peach that dissolves from Shapely Fruit to Sloppy Mess after three bites, but you’re going to eat every last icy, juicy bit.

My ennui is palpable these days. Whose bright idea was it to take away my dish of ice cream? My Pomegranate Rockstar? My crunchy-salty something?

But in my endless ennui, I actually FORGOT that I am going on vacation. Starting on WEDNESDAY.

Oh my stars!

At least when I’m at home, I can usually muster up excitement for something other than a Diet Coke.

Things like…

– taking a bus to Chicago with my Mommy so we can take in the exhibitions at the American Library Association annual conference

– my boyfriend leaving for Boston on Friday

– me and my Mommy leaving for Boston on Monday

– sifting through the piles and piles of nameless CD-Rs I found in my room

And that whole curled up under the desk problem?


Come to think of it, that might be exciting me enough to keep my pulse high enough to signify life today.

*So I had one of those really creepy dreams where you wake up and find yourself in a strange, fugue state where your dreams are CERTAINLY real, and any consequences of said dream are CERTAINLY real and you have to literally convince yourself, through the powers of logic and reasoning, that it was just a dream.

Last night, I dreamed I went to a doctor’s appointment. She examined me on the table, then gave me a drug and told me to get naked and get in the shower. I was dizzy and falling over from the meds, but I made it in, and my doctor joined me.  She gave my stomach an ultrasound and said “Yes, it looks like you are 5 weeks pregnant.” Dream Jessica was floored. What the eff was I supposed to do? Dream Jessica got out of the shower and found an entire family of dark-haired people in the same room as she, coming in early for their appointment, and to check out the naked, slightly pregnant girl.

I woke up and had to talk myself out of going out to buy a pregnancy test today.

P.S. I just heard a rumor that there is a cookie cake in the staff room today. Can’t have THAT much sugar…. right?


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