The rumors concerning our sanity have been greatly exaggerated.

The motivation behind all scientific discovery begins here . . .

October found me eager and excited, brimming with confidence and creativity for my work . . . at least during weekends. However, Monday mornings broke with the din of a funeral march, disturbing those few early morning dreams and ushering me upstairs upon the family couch while reruns of Law and Order painted visions of murder and desperation before sleep-filled eyes.  Waiting to leave the house proved the most trying, as my imagination, planting visions of screaming children and growling soccer moms, tried its damnedest to wrack my body with anxiety, upset my stomach and basically ruin the whole of my week.

Thankfully, I had Dunkin Donuts and their wonderful battalion of iced coffees to attack my flagging spirit and sleep deprivation.  Truly, the smell alone had a soothing effect; the extra-large galleon-sized container of liquid energy, a balm to my worries.  My imagination, drowning in legal stimulants, learned to behave, and I drove to school, happily contemplating Thanksgiving and Christmas break, only three months away.

The fallout from the field trip befell us the following Monday when Dr. T took us in the conference room for lunch. Slowly Ms. P spilled the story, downplaying our absence at the deli (a little) and deleting the abusive pot-smoker entirely (to be fair, the kids were not involved at all).

Tea-ed Off

Dunkin’ Donuts’ iced tea is the worst, foulest muck that I have ever tasted.  Granted having never actually tasted authentic outdoorsy muck, grime, or slime before, I suppose my digust is a bit of an exaggeration.  Nonetheless even the dysentery-drenched swill that circulates through the wells of many a Mexican pueblo refreshes the body more than the rust-tinted (-flavored) pint sitting atop my desk.  Ugh . . .

Most iced tea in truth is an acquired taste, particularly when you choose to abscond on the sweeteners.  Sugar (much like salt on anything else) can overpower the taste of tea, much in the same way that the letters N-E-S-T-E-A does.   To DD’s credit though, I’m told that their coffee greatly surpasses even Starbucks in terms of taste.  Ryan and Sean stand by their Coolata’s, especially as their exams roll around.

Sincerely, I wonder how our students and professors would manage without their caffeine-fix.  Most of the academic community — not to ignore the rest of the world — runs on coffee, alcohol, and late-night adrenaline bursts.   Learning necessitates chemical stimulation, like soldiers tripping-out on LSD in Vietnam.  An unjust comparison perhaps, but I like to consider our addictions now and then, that which drives us forward (or backwards) each and every day.  After all each of us has our own personal demons with which to contend, addictions and obsessions of every shape, size, and political party.  Some, like the swill melting before me,  are worse than others . . .

And in my case sugar-coating only makes it taste much much worse.

Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol, morphine or idealism. — Carl Jung