Too much of a good thing and holiday drop-out
Dear Rachel,
Is it possible to drink too much coffee? Not in a single go. Obviously, that is possible. I mean cumulatively. I stayed with extended family for Thanksgiving, and they had a pump-a-cup carafe just sitting there all day. I never felt buzzed, but now that I’m home, it’s like the thought of coffee makes me ill. Matter of fact, I started my day today without it. I just drank water and had tea. Tea! Herbal tea! Can I be cured?
– De-Caffed
Dear Bottomless,
This is the very definition of too much of a good thing. One time, I took myself to see a movie, and I bought the biggest bag of Skittles they had. I ate that entire damn pouch like a horse with oats. And I felt sick until I digested some greens in penance. I loved that bag of Skittles, and I will do it again, first chance I get. But boy, I could not not not have done that again within the same calendar month. Just give it time, and either your taste will come back, or you’ll be doomed to chamomile for all eternity.
– My cup overfloweth, Rachel
Dear Rachel,
I have heard that you are cuter than a basket full of kittens. So, what’s with TV ads showing two cats eating on a counter top in the kitchen with a woman? I have to eat my food on the floor in my bowl. I know you are friends with some top cats. Your thoughts?
– Hound Dog
Dear Dirty Dawg,
I have heard that you are comprised of a greater flea-proportion than the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It’s a wonder you are allowed in the house. Heck, it’s a wonder anyone feeds you, going around thinking that complimenting people with “you are prettier than a bunch of baby animals trapped in a woven box” is some kind of flattery. BTW, cats’ paws are nearly just as gross and should also not be allowed anywhere near a countertop.
– Get down, Rachel
Dear Rachel,
I just ain’t feeling the Christmas spirit this year. Don’t wanna pull out the light-up village, don’t wanna book the Polar Express, don’t wanna hear Mariah Carey, don’t wanna watch Rudolph. Don’t even really want to do presents for the kids (though I will). I don’t feel grinchy, exactly, or depressed or anything. Just like, blah, not into it, can’t be bothered. This isn’t really such a crime, is it?
– Meh-ry Christmas
Dear Ebenezer,
No, it’s not a crime. Least it better not be, because I don’t think I have been into Christmas for several years now. I think it’s just the affliction called adulthood. Or maybe it’s that time is actually shrinking, and we genuinely don’t get the Christmas recovery period we used to. Like drinking too much coffee and having to convert to having no joy left in your life.
– Ho ho hum, Rachel
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