My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie Coffee hasn't tasted the same since the Retransformation. The cream doesn't exactly help - it almost seems to curdle as soon as it hits the brew, giving it an inconsistent texture and almost making it more bitter. Sugar makes it even worse, as if the stuff was intentionally burned. I know this because before the Transformation, I drank my coffee black - all the time. Steaming hot, too, every morning. And it always woke me up like a punch to the throat. These days, not so much. I'm still exhausted after two or three cups. It doesn't taste the same. It doesn't feel the same. It's like I've grown an immunity to the effect. A resistance. Maybe Red Bull or an energy shot would do me more wonders. I'm ready to start the job hunt again by ten, just so I can rub the extra sleep out of my eyes. I've suffered from somnolence over the past two weeks, and for the first time in a while, I can wake up earlier than eleven in the morning. M...

You want me to turn away from my meds, from any drugs marked prescription. You think holistic medicine will "cure" my nervous conniptions. Well, let me tell you, sport, about the alternative sensations: If this stuff had been proven to work, it'd be labeled, "medication." So let's hope that your water does have too strong of a memory, because considering what you do in the bath, there are things it doesn't want to see.