I am dying. I am sitting at my desk at work and I am dying.

At least that's what it feels like anyways.

I woke up this morning and felt great! I was ready to go, all excited about day 2. But then I did things.

Doing things was a mistake. I shouldn't have done the things. Because the things are making me want to curl up in a ball and cry/die.

I knew this day would come. The book warned me it would come. My sister warned me that it would come. And now it's here and I'm dying.

I also did something today that I haven't done in over 10 years. I hit an inanimate object while driving.

You see I was pulling into the gas station on the way to work this morning and there was this metal pole, like there is at pretty much every gas station in the United States.

Well I hit that pole. Thankfully it was more of a sideswipe that only resulted in some paint being scraped off my front end but still. I hit the pole.

Who, after driving and getting their own gas for 13+ years, hits the gas station pole?

Apparently I do. Because that's the other fun part: my brain isn't working so well either.

Really just no part of me is working well today.

I had heard about the dreaded sugar/carb hangover, that thing that happens when you cut out the added sugars & you get really sick because your body doesn't know how to handle life anymore.

But I didn't think it would be like this.

I don't know what I expected because how I'm feeling now--tired, foggy-brained, weak, sore all over, headache-y--is exactly how it was described.

And yet somehow I'm surprised that I'm feeling all those things.

Sometimes I worry about myself. I really, really do.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take advantage of the fact that I have to shut my door because I have to bring my dog to work while she recovers from knee surgery and curl up under my desk and cry. Or maybe nap.

Or both.

Probably gonna do both.

I can make up the billable hours another day, right?

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