Breaking Fast

Yesterday was a close call. For some reason the idea of margaritas danced around my thoughts. I considered the opportunity. I imagined the taste...the experience...the effect and ultimately decided yesterday was going to be the day. We were going to go to Nando's. I was going to order an appetizer of queso dip. I was going to order rice and beans as my meal and I was going to have one two margaritas. I have not drank for six months and I'm bored of it. I'm tired of automatically being the driver. I'm tired of sitting with people as they become intoxicated and having to act as if they aren't drunk. I'm tired of being ready for bed at 9:00 when out with friends.

None of this ever bothers me if I TOO am drinking.

Except fate, that tricky little sucker of good times, decided I already had plans which did not include margaritas from Nando's. My plan was foiled and I had to think "was something stepping in to help keep me strong"...perhaps.

Or maybe, and I'm just thinking out loud here, destiny was merely guiding me to a much more appropriate occasion in which to break my fast of today.

It is almost 75 degrees out. The sky is clear and blue. I would like to lounge around a pool, maybe a hot tub, and have a beverage or two.



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