I know I blog quite a bit about believing in the impossible, but when push comes to shove, I am a realist. I dream big dreams, but all of my dreams are carefully crafted fantasies– often involving Excel spreadsheets and complex mathematical formulas. In other words, with the right amount of caffeine, all of my dreams are achievable.
There is one exception to my caffeine-driven aspirations: my thesis. In fact, when constructing my initial thesis prospectus, I was under the influence of my Oxford vice– the tiramisu cocktail. And if there is one lesson my college experience has provided, it is that I should never make major life decisions after consuming alcoholic beverages–even ones with espresso shots in them.
And now nearly a year later, I am paying the price for my alcohol-induced decision. While schmoozing with Kathy, a fellow classmate, my thesis advisor began to walk in my direction. Spotting him from the corner of my eye, I did what every thesis student a chapter behind on her thesis would do, I hid. Mid-conversation, I sprinted towards a nearby office.
Then, reaching out from the confinements of my hiding spot, I began dragging Kathy to my place of refuge. I informed her that all future communication would need to occur out of my plain sight of my advisor, who would likely be sending me a rather hostile email in the next half hour with the subject line: “Young Lady, You owe me South Africa.”
Kathy, well acquainted with my advisor, found my reaction comical– if not entirely perplexing. Despite my admission that I was far from the ideal thesis student, Kathy could not believe the depths I had sunk to. Not responding to email was one form of avoidance, but physically removing myself from a situation of potential interaction– that was an entirely new low.
I, too, was surprised at my knee-jerk response. Though the thesis dash was an activity I had considered partaking in more than once, I never suspected I would actually engage in such physically intensive behavior. There could only be one explanation: I was not thinking rationally. And as I’ve discovered, there is usually only one reason that I act irrationally– not enough caffeine.
Of all days, I chose Wednesday to be my caffeine-free day. Well, actually, I made it my Starbucks-free day. As of 7 PM, I had consumed three cups of tea and two diet cokes. And with a thesis chapter yet to be complete, I am sure those numbers will continue to rise. The point, though, is that at the moment in which I decided to test my skills at marathon running, I had no coffee in my system.
And like the Starbucks baby featured above, I have learned a valuable lesson. I cannot and, frankly, should not engage in the Starbucks detox ever again. If I sprinted from my thesis advisor today, there are few absurd behaviors I am incapable of engaging in.
So here’s to grande skinny vanilla lattes that help me function as a happy and healthy human being!