So, I was pretty sick during early January -- certainly sick enough to take Nyquil and sleep lots. That, plus a light load as far as work and school were concerned, meant that after about a week or so, I realized that I hadn't had any caffeine in a while.
Thus began the notion: what if I just stopped altogether? Certainly it made sense economically, what with the roughly $5 a day I spent keeping myself conscious. And I already had a head start. All I needed to do was keep up on my sleep...
Easier said than done. But the headaches weren't too bad, and I did manage early nights and late mornings more often. I managed to go cold turkey for about two weeks - but what ended up tripping me up was the psychological addiction. The way a cup of coffee can help trigger my line of thought, or the way a paper cup from Starbucks just feels right in my hands, first thing in the morning.
I've managed to keep my usage to a reasonable level. A cup of tea a day, maybe, or a diet Pepsi every once in a while. I just had my first latte in forever tonight - a tasty, tasty vanilla chai one - and it's not too strong, but the buzz is potent and lingering.
I don't think I need caffeine anymore. But I do still like it. And it's nice to have something under control, for once.
Lord help me. Not only am I watching "Living With Michael Jackson", but I'm writing notes on it.
So far, I'm actually kind of impressed by what the filmmakers are doing. Starting off with Neverland and the attractions was creepy. But bringing it back to the music was interesting. "Billy Jean" is one of my all-time favorite songs, and yes, Michael, it is one of the all-time great bass lines. And to see him dance was awesome too. Because that's eternal. That's what we know.
I have a feeling I'm going to hate interview guy soon. But I enjoy watching him try to Moonwalk.
God. He's actively trying to be ten years old. My god.
The Botticelli picture is creeping me out something awful.
"You can't imagine the effect this violence had on young Michael?" You're looking DIRECTLY AT HIS FACE.
And after they started getting into the plastic surgery pretty seriously, and I saw the masks his kids wore, I stopped taking notes and just gawked. My god.
It's almost painfully connect-the-dot, the way they use his past to clarify the present. I don't feel like it's as simple as that...
But what the hell do I really know about it?
Thus endeth any thoughts I have ever had about Michael Jackson's personal life. I never want to go there again.
I wish I had the time/committment to watch The Dead Zone. The concept for the show is so cool, and they make the characters make really interesting choices. Plus, every time John Smith makes a move on Ezri Dax, my heart just melts.
Don't ask me why.
Tomorrow, I'm going to hole up at a cafe and be productive, then go see a matinee of Daredevil. These are my plans. Perhaps they will even work out right.