Aha! (smacks forehead)

I’ve been feeling a little out of it lately. Tired, cranky, ass-draggy – even moreso than usual. It’s been especially bad on the weekends and I just haven’t been able to figure out why. Yesterday afternoon, I was so sluggish (or, more accurately, slug-like, in that I was lying on the floor in a puddle of my own drool) in the middle of the day that I asked Beloved to throw on a pot of coffee, in hopes of sparking some spring into my step. Or at least being able to sit upright.

Through bleary eyes, I noticed he was scooping from the decaf canister instead of using the real coffee. I was about to whimper, not having the energy to wail, in protest when it struck me… sweet mother of columbian supremo, no wonder I’ve been feeling like crap. I’VE BEEN DRINKING DECAF!!!

We’ve had the same two coffee canisters for years, one with pretty flowers that holds the real coffee, and a glass one that holds the decaf, which we often drink in the evenings. Some time in the last couple of weeks, my adled brain had crossed up which canister has the aromatic grounds of perky goodness, and which canister has the “it’s two hours until bedtime, I’d better not or I’ll be up all night” decaf poser.

I could cry. It’s been weeks since the boys have slept later than 5:30 am, and I’ve been medicating myself with decaf? The horror!

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