For one summer, years ago, I worked as a barista at Starbucks. On one of my first days, they had me pulling espresso shots. And I had to drink each one until I knew it was right.

Don’t ask about the logic in that. There was none. I had no idea what was right. Maybe they did. I didn’t.

Seven shots later, my trainer declared I had made a good one. But I was too far gone to truly know. High as a kite.

[image courtesy of The Oatmeal]

A handful of hours into my shift, I may as well have been licking mud off the floor. 

[image courtesy of The Oatmeal]

It was the first and last time I experienced a caffeine rush and crash. 

Until yesterday.

On Wednesday night, I was up until 2:30 a.m. getting my work done on a project. I got to bed at 3 and woke up at 6. I was dying. So, before she left for work, Katie gave me a Tylenol with Caffeine. I had no idea such a thing existed but I took it. 

I won’t say I was bouncing off the walls or anything but I was certainly awake. I was up enough that I gave a demo of the work I did and received a lot of compliments about it. All with zero coffee or tea. Just that little red tablet. 

But by eight that night, I was dragging ass. Combine the crash with the lack of sleep I got the night before and, basically, I laid down with Nathan to read to him, we made it through the introduction of the book, I turned the light off, and, honestly, I remember nothing after that. 

Katie was apparently waiting for me in our bed to which I never made it. I did wake up about midnight but Nathan stirred awake when I tried to get up so I laid back down and we slept until 5:30. 

Damn that was a good sleep. 

And we go running for the shelter of our father’s little helper.

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Marty Mankins

The caffeine crash is real. Great story.


Sooooo real. And thanks!--

Kevin Apgar | @kapgar |

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