Wired

I had a very early start this morning as I was being collected at 7.15am to go off to a business networking meeting. Not just any old networking meeting, but a brand new one that I was helping to launch. The night before, I went to bed early and set my alarm clock for 6am. Naturally, I awoke at 4.30am and was unable to doze off again. So I got up, made my pot of tea and sat at the PC until it was time to get in the shower.

On arrival at our venue, I was delighted to see there was a large pot of fresh filter coffee waiting for us. As my eyeballs felt like they had been sandpapered, my body as if it had been hit by a Massey Ferguson and my brain like a bowl of custard, I poured myself a very large mug. I felt, in a word, shit. And I didn't even have the excuse of a hangover.

There was lots to do during set-up so I kept fuelling myself on caffeine. And then I drank more with my breakfast during the meeting. And more afterwards.

It was only when I arrived home at 11.30am, ready to do some paid work, that I realised I had drunk about 6 cups of the stuff. I felt completely hyper - even replying to emails was a marathon effort because my hands and brain were out of sync and I could feel my heart pounding inside my ribs. Emails sorted, I tried to work and realised I was in no state to do so.

This had everything to do with the fact that in around 3 hours I had drunk treble my normal weekly dose of coffee.

I abandoned all thoughts of constructive employment and surfed the net, played card games on my PC and read a novel instead.

Tomorrow, I'll play catch-up. If I can sleep tonight...