![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsI was feeling rundown yesterday afternoon so I decided to try the drink that has become the drug of choice among my teammates at the office: Kronik, a low-calorie "energy drink." (If you go to the website, you'll get a bunch of bullsnot pictures of BMX bikers, skateboarders, and paintballers all showing the supposed lifestyle of people who drink highly caffeinated soda water. It's ridiculous.)
Now, let's be clear: the can is 16oz in size and swears that it contains 2 servings. I don't know anyone who will drink half a can of anything carbonated: by the time you get to the other half, it's flat and disgusting. Unlike most people, I actually poured it into a glass; it is a light blue color not found in nature. It would glow under blacklight.
I drank less than half a serving, less than four ounces, and the two halves of my brain stopped communicating. Shards of thought missed one another, unrelated images and diagrams collided with words and expressions. I could not speak without stuttering. Getting a single coherent idea together to express was an effort. I knew what I wanted to say but I couldn't say it without a supreme force of will. For an hour afterward I was a useless mass of brain cells and little more. If there was any physical sign of my distress beside the stutter, neither I nor my coworkers noticed.
I think I'll stick to coffee. At least I know what I'm getting.
Now, let's be clear: the can is 16oz in size and swears that it contains 2 servings. I don't know anyone who will drink half a can of anything carbonated: by the time you get to the other half, it's flat and disgusting. Unlike most people, I actually poured it into a glass; it is a light blue color not found in nature. It would glow under blacklight.
I drank less than half a serving, less than four ounces, and the two halves of my brain stopped communicating. Shards of thought missed one another, unrelated images and diagrams collided with words and expressions. I could not speak without stuttering. Getting a single coherent idea together to express was an effort. I knew what I wanted to say but I couldn't say it without a supreme force of will. For an hour afterward I was a useless mass of brain cells and little more. If there was any physical sign of my distress beside the stutter, neither I nor my coworkers noticed.
I think I'll stick to coffee. At least I know what I'm getting.
