Today is an all-out, go-for-broke, caffeine bachanalia buzz fest. Heather and I both woke up So tired from the weekend festivities that we had to be dragged out of bed by a special last-minute act of congress.
I'm drinking coffee like a jet pilot on night patrol. I feel a low-level humming, not unlike the background echo of the Big Bang, permeating my every nerve ending. I'm hot, radioactive, ultra-alert . Jumpy as a Joey. The faintest sound sends chills up my spine and into my brain like shockwaves from a grenade.
Really, really dreading coming down from this. It could be bad. No spotters, no net. Just a hard desk top to break my fall.
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