BUNN-O-MATIC GOES ACTIVE DUTY, hypo-caffeinia and some really bad Mexican food

feeling:  weak, my acute hearing is fading and I have blinked for the first time in years... I am not well, I think I may be dying from hypo-caffeinia, a rare and sometimes fatal condition resulting from low to no caffeine counts in the bloodstream.

Its been more than 72 hours since my Bunn-O-Matic was called into active duty for the First Sgt. training course at the Army post.  Its mission is classified, OPSEC (Operation Secret) but the cover is that it is replacing a malfunctioning caffeine dispensing machine at the back of the classroom.  I am feeling the effects of withdrawal.  I tried to make a cup of instant coffee yesterday and grabbed the canister of coffee grounds out of habit.  I laughed hysterically at the grounds floating in my mug but it really wasn't funny.  I was in pain.  My previous entry includes the word 'contributributions'.  After reading it several times I was unable to focus enough to figure out what I was trying to spell so I pulled up my handy dandy online dictionary and pulled up the word.  This is what it said:

Main Entry: con·tri·bu·tri·bu·tion
Pronunciation: "kän-tr&-'byü-tr&-'byü-sh&n
Function: noun
Date: 14th century gibberish, usually spoken during bout of caffeine deprivation
1 : huh?  (please refer to 'A Dummy's Guide to Spelling')

I had one of those really nasty microwavable chimichanga's for lunch yesterday.  I hate them, but I needed something to take my mind off of coffee.  By 9pm the ultra-violet plumes were radiating out behind me at an alarming rate and the smog index for the house hit the ceiling.  I warned Dickidoo to fasten his seat belt when he went to bed so I wouldn't blast him off the bed if I had my back to him, but hey, if he didn't take my Bunn-O-Matic Pour-O-Matic in the first place I wouldn't have eatten the chimichanga and there wouldn't be a hazardous gas issue at all.

Rocky is having issues of her own.  I have no sense of humor lately, but when I saw her crawling across the floor on her belly last night, gasping for chocolate I had to laugh.  We always takethe kids Halloween loot away and let them have piece by piece because they would eat it all at once otherwise.  Yesterday she didn't get her daily ration of chocolate and she was having little withdrawals of her own.  I know how she must have felt and I should have relented and tossed her a Hersheys, but hey, if I have to suffer then so can she!  You don't see me crawling around on mystomach like a pathetic, addicted fool do you?  No!  I run around hollering loudly like a pathetic addicted fool "I NEED COFFEE!"  She even came banging on the Royal Throne Room and begged through the door for chocolate.  Now I'm sitting there, trying to get a large straight with my last roll on the pocket Yahtzee, suffering from hypo-caffeinia, trying to eradicate the last of some really bad Mexican processed food and she wants to talk about chocolate?  NO!  She either got the message, or the smell... and the subject has not been brought back up since!

The Hemi just pulled up in the driveway.  No, my Bunn-O-Matic was not nestled safely in its 'new truck' scented interior.  Dickidoo did however enter the house with another bucket of 7-11 coffee, and the offer of a movie date for this evening.  His life has been spared.  But it is only a stay of execution.  If my 2-warmer coffee brewing system (with 2-pot hot water reservoir) is NOT on the coffee stand by 0'dark-hundred the man is going to find himself in a world of hurt!  The clock is ticking! (cue the Jeopardy theme song now)