So, I’m now probably addicted to coffee. I’ve staved off this thing for years, always telling people that I didn’t need my one cup a day. I can go days without coffee. It’s easy, just watch me!
Well, I finally put my money where my mouth was, and it’s…awful. My friends in the office said they’d all give me $20 if I could go a week without coffee, and I’m failing on day 2. And weirdly, I’m having a surge of reverse-energy, like my body is scraping out all the emergency supplies but they’ve gone bad and it’s just not good energy.
This morning I had to help out a client with their tree felling problem. Pretty simple and standard, and our company has plenty of tree removal arborists in Melbourne as part of our connections. We have basically everything you care to name, because it’s what we do. But after I’d had my weirdly confident conversation with the client on the phone, I started searching for tree felling. Quality tree felling. Melbourne’s BEST tree felling. Tree Fellers. That sitcom about the Irish men. Sitcoms, which were created in the 1950s to parody modern life. The 1950s, a time of social upheaval in the wake of World War II. The war where many countries tried sending messages using trained foxes, but the success rate was
I was in some kind of internet freefall, trapped in my own mind but unable to stop myself. I was supposed to be finding quality arborist services, but instead, I ended up reading a 20,000-word about a famous Brazilian luchador in its entirety, start to finish. I needed stimulation, so my brain was finding other ways to provide it, and I’ve never been that distracted in my life.
Everything turned out for the best. I was able to find an arborist who can take care of the tree pruning. Melbourne has a bit of an overgrown tree problem with roots destroying the pavement. Once that was sorted I drank four cups of instant espresso that I found at the back of the cupboard, and now I’m buying the morning coffee round for a month. Cool, yep. Everything turned out for the best.