I Don't Care If You Call It Soda or Pop--This Is Still War.

They say that insanity is repeating an action and expecting different results.  I don't know who "they" are--probably the people carrying the fashionably long-sleeved white coat.  I think they're following me.

But, it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a woman in possession of a full-time job must be in want of a caffeinated beverage.  Which is to say, don't even bother talking to me before I've started my first can on Mt. Dew--any appearances of consciousness are false.

Scene:  this morning, first thing, at work.  The soda machine informed me that the Mt. Dew was sold out.  This was bad, but not a catastrophe, because I can settle for a Coke in a pinch.  BUT, the machine spat out my dollar, same way it did for the Mt. Dew.

This was a problem.  If there is no Mt. Dew, and there is no Coke, my only caffeinated option is Dr. Pepper, and twenty-one flavors is just too many for me. 

It would have been better than nothing--but there was nothing.  So, what was I supposed to drink?  Orange juice?  Get out of here.  This was a catastrophe!  Had my life really come to this?  In desperation, I tried each of the caffeinated options a bunch more times, and kicked the machine for good measure.  (There may have been some chest beating and hair-pulling as well.)

Finally, the light came on--a literal light.  The indicator light for "exact change only," to be exact. 

Proof positive that acting crazy is not always the same as being crazy.

Update:  I wrote this on Monday.  As of 12:08 pm today, we really are out of Mt. Dew, Coke, and Dr. Pepper.  I'm trying unsuccessfully to drown my tears in a caffeine-free root beer.


(True:  SHUT UP, PEANUT GALLERY!)