So someone asked me today (paraphrasing): "Good lord, why aren't you drinking more?" And frankly, as I sit here taking a late lunch of a few leaves of lettuce, a couple of grapes, and a pineapple slice and about to read/review/extract info from the 7th of 9 100-page government proposals (of varying degrees of clarity/sophistication) in 4 days, I find myself asking the same exact question. Why am I not drinking more? In fact, why am I not drowning in a heroin-laced bathtub of pure tequila right now? Why am I not swimming in a pool of floating vicodins with vodka waves splashing against my face as I sip pure gin through a cocaine flavored straw? Good questions, valid questions, reasonable questions.
ps. I would also ask, if I had time to ask myself and the patience to answer my own questions and the stamina to listen to my response: how have I managed not to have one of those spectacular hair-pulling eye gouging meltdowns on the Metro that you read about in the Washington Post Express mini-paper (for the attention-deficit commuter who only looks at the pictures and does the suduko and that are so annoyingly hawked by chipper paper-handers in the morning at the station entrances and who manage to make saying "Good morning, have a nice day" feel like an obligation to acknowledge and respond in kind which, to be honest, I do not appreciate because I hate people now more than ever)?
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