I wish drinking was like meditation: I could sit there, glass in hand, just gazing out with soft eyes at the life that surrounds me.
Most times I do.
More times than not I don't.
I stare hard at the glass, and feel as if the liquid inside of it needed to be somewhere yesterday. I drink with a purpose.
Thanks, social anxiety.
But sometimes, it's just that good. One tasty craft beer deserves another, after all; like potato chips or Pringles, you can't have just one.
Maybe next time I should bring my cushion and sit lotus on the floor..
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