Once upon a time I had to be on a yucky medication.
The medication, in addition to doing what it was supposed to, made me feel horribly fuzzy-brained and exhausted.
And then the medical fix-it part stopped doing its job. So I was left still having the problem AND feeling fuzzy-brained and exhausted.
(And yes, there is a difference between the normal me and the fuzzy-brained me. Commence with the up-shutting, please.)
When I asked a doctor how come I acclimated to the therapeutic effect and not to the crappy side-effects he said, “Cause sometimes it sucks that way.”
Which, as an answer, I found oddly refreshing.
It seems to happen that way ALL the time.
If I need to take Tylenol regularly for something, every few days I’ll have to take MORE because I acclimate to it.
If I drink wine with any frequency, I’ll become immune to the WINE effect but not to the headache caused by drinking three glasses of it.
If I use salt too liberally, I’ll get so used to it that I end up needing to put a crispy coating of the stuff on my food just so I can TASTE it.
So clearly if left to my own devices I’d become an acetaminophen addicted alcoholic with high blood-pressure.
How come I only acclimate to things in a NON-HELPFUL way? How come I don’t become immune to all the annoying crap?
Here are the things I WANT to get so acclimated to that they don’t affect me any more:
The calories in chocolate.
The hyperactive consequence of four double mochas.
The skin-break-out-factor caused by my favorite foundation.
Teenagers who drive. And live in my house.
TV news anchors who say “noo-kyoo-lar.”
Sexy stiletto heels. (Wearing them, I mean.)
Neighbors with overly cute exterior decorations.
Wouldn’t those things be FAR more practical to be acclimated to?
I’ll put that on the list of things to fix when I’m queen.
Along with dressing room mirrors.
THOSE things have GOT to go.