An empty Mountain Dew can sits boldly on my beaten and bruised computer desk. It's metallic green curves reflect back at me with resent. The can is a soldier, and I - the enemy dictator. Already, the white dollar store trash can next to my desk is the eternal resting place to seventeen cans. Purple hearts for them all. Bravo. My nerves are on end, electric with caffeine. An acid tasting ocean fills my stomach, and my head feels heavy. Tossing my hair has become a risk I'm not willing to take. Long blonde strands stick to the light moisture on my back. Breathe in, breathe out. When did the simple task of inhaling become such a pain in the ass? A dull fan blows dank air, in a pathetic attempt of cooling me. Dust and dirt clings to the blades. The room is now polluted. Thank you very much, you pathetic hunk of plastic. Absent mindedly, I throw the can at the spinning blades. It hits with an ear splitting clink, and spins back at me at an amazing speed. The dented aluminum collides with my forehead, resulting in an enormous "FUCK!".
  Since when have caffeinated beverages had the ability to attack me? My head has went from feeling heavy to feeling as if it will erupt in a volcano of blood and bone tissue.
  And what can solve this stressful dilemma? Ah.....yes.... I reach for another Mountain Dew.