Questions I Know the Answers to and Yet…

As I was sitting in my backyard yesterday, talking to friends and getting happily drunk, I said to myself “Why don’t I do this more often?”

This is a question I know the answer to.

It is, indeed, a question I knew the answer to when I was all “Why yes, I will have a second beer and a third and so on.”

And yet, I pushed the answer out of my mind, as if that happens sometimes, and maybe not this time.

But there is no “sometimes.”

Ha, upon rereading this, it makes it sound like, every time I drink, I get drunk and fuck the people across the street in some kind of shame-fueled orgy.

Bu no.

And, not only did I spend all night with the unpleasant side-effects of dumping too much bread and sugar into a system regulated by medication, I had a fucking tick on my shoulder.

Blah, nature. Beer. You both suck.

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