Just a Few Hiccups

I am hiccuping as if I've swallowed an entire swimming pool and it wants back out. My husband and daughter are sleeping soundly, as are the two cats at my side. But I am out here in the blazingly hot living room hiccuping until my chest hurts. What in God's name caused this all of a sudden? I haven't eaten or drunk anything in hours.

The only thing I can think is that the newly posted lecture in my writer's workshop has set my insides whirring. My brain has set off the fire alarm to let me know I am certifiably insane for taking on this workload while minding an ever more active toddler all day and night. Or maybe my stomach is complaining because it sees the onslaught of caffeine coming and it wants none of that. Actually, any part of me could be unhappy with this trauma, except perhaps that small corner of my brain that says, "Lady, you're gonna have to get off your ass and do something constructive unless you want me to torture you for the rest of your God given days."

That small quadrant of grey matter is Queen of this castle and, as it seems, quite powerful enough to take on any protestors in my life. Amazing. Now I just need it to figure mathematical probabilities and algorithms or whatever it takes to go home with a vault full of cash from the casino.