Exchef and I had a conversation on my Facebook status earlier today, because I realized that I write a blog of ill repute. She said

“. . . If Kevin [her husband] and I ever decide to do a “Days of Wine and Roses” re-enactment I’ll drop …the cash and try some of your yummy-sounding drinks. Alas – he’s a Miller Light kind of guy, and I’m in the time-out box with all sorts of imbibements.” Thus, the theme of this post. You’ll see more later.

I have friends who write blogs about poetry, music, fatherhood, photography, and cooking. Instead I write a blog about booze, which I love doing. The verdict is still out on whether it’s any good, but at least I enjoy it.

My life has become this barrage of insecurities and giant question marks. I have applied to graduate school and law school; I’m unemployed. I wait. I wait for a yes to come from a hiring manager. I wait for a yes from a graduate school. I wait for a yes from a law school. However, I have 23 hours and 57 minutes to obsess the rest of the day while I’m waiting for my email to refresh.

I wonder where I’ll go if I get into both UNC and NCCU. I wonder what I’ll do if I only get into one school. Then I wonder what will happen if I only get into 1 program. Or if I don’t get in at all. Or if I don’t get funded again. Or if the State of North Carolina says that I’m not a resident. What do I do if no one hires me and I run out of my unemployment benefit. I start with one ONE hypothetical and here come the questions. Most of the questions I have answered. I do know what I would do. I feel safe and confident and comfortable. Most of the time. But there’s this voice in the back of my head that just . . . keeps . . . talking.

Before Christian and I had the Argentinian Sangria, we were having this conversation and drinking wine, or as I like to call it, exposing some of the blackest places in my soul. We talked, and I kept overtalking. I’m surprised Christian kept listening to me. I guess that’s what you get for boozy bribery. And then this happened:

For those of you who can’t tell, this is a picture of my wine glass. With my back yard reflected in it.

It made me remember a favorite promises from booze: Relaxation. Idleness.Which is not to say that you can’t be idle or relaxed while doing other activities, but at a certain point booze makes it irresponsible to do anything other than relax.While gazing at the wine, the voices stopped.

I realized that I had spent too much time stressing about things that had yet to come to pass, that I had stopped to enjoy the roses, or in my case: the wine and the world that I had missed.

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