December 11, 2005

Red Bull is Not Your Friend

The week began in illness. This put me in quite the foul mood, as I just got over a cold that had me floored for the weeks surrounding Thanksgiving. I had pulled a 3AM design session, and it was right around the time I slammed my second Red Bull that I noticed my throat was feeling scratchy. I disregarded it at the time and gave all credit to the Red Bull, which had me so amped that I felt like I was going to simultaneously shake and rot the teeth right out of my skull.

“Nah,” I figured. “It’s just the Red Bull. It always burns the throat as it goes down. Everyone knows it’s 30 percent antifreeze, anyway.” I’m more of a Rockstar guy myself, but it was 12:30 in the morning and I couldn’t find a cold one anywhere at the luxe grocery store down the street.

In the coming days I got kicked, and I got kicked hard. Long after the Red Bull wore off I still couldn’t stop shaking. I took a shower, and it sapped just about all the energy I had. I was so cold. I was so hot. My skin was confused and tingly, and I felt like I had spent the day rolling around in fiberglass insulation. My glands were swollen to the size of grapefruits and my throat was crammed with all that stuff you get in your throat, like snot and frogs and stuff. The emptied contents of my sinuses resembled brilliant sunsets.

I daresay it is getting better, as I seem to be on the far side of this miserable thing. I spent the weekend hanging out with people who I haven’t seen in years, great friends from Ihduhapi and the Nerd Herd who live in Queens or sing charts from Sweeney Todd or paddle the Woodland Caribou or own cats or admit they find Fall Out Boy to be a guilty pleasure. It’s great to be back in this neighborhood amongst such great company. I don’t know how long I’ll be kickin’ around this part of town, as usual, but I do know that I’ll be living in this state at least until next September.

And then? We’ll just have to wait and see. I’ve been flying by the seat of my pants for more than two months, now, and as of yet there is no indication that I’m royally screwing anything up as a result. Nah, I’ll just let things keep unfolding at their own pace. Their own pace, accompanied by 3AM web design marathons, adverse reactions to Red Bull, fever dreams and violent chills, and fruit cocktails infused with vodka and nuclear fusion.