I was pretty lame in my writing yesterday, giving up after less than 450 words. And tonight, I was falling asleep at my keyboard after a mere 700 words and change. I felt it was time to break the glass and pull out the emergency tools. Well, actually, I gave myself the choice. Either go for the caffeine pills again, or walk down the street to get a soda. It was 4am, so I just went for the pills.
Which do you think is less healthy? All that super sweet sugar along with the caffeine, or just the caffeine straight up, knowing that I'm taking a double dose compared to a soda? It's a tough call.
Anyway, once again, I can't complain about my secret weapon's results. I followed up that 700 words with another 2500. How can anyone complain about 3200 words in one night?
I know. I know. My addictive personality may get the better of me and I could start to rely on the magic motivation. Mmmmm! Wouldn't that be nice! Think of all the work I could get done before I actually had a problem. I could stop just before then. I can handle it. I'm an adult.
Come to think of it. I'm 2700 miles away from my closest friends. There's no one here to stop me even if they wanted to.
Alas, it doesn't matter either way. Even though my last dose was what? Five? Six days ago? It didn't quite have that same jarring high the previous round had. The quickly diminishing returns would have me quitting in no time. It's so sad. As addictive as my personality is, I'm too lazy to get addicted to something I would so quickly find physically, emotionally, or mentally unsatisfying. How pathetic. Looks like I'll have to stick with becoming an alcoholic.