It was a weird day yesterday.
I came home and puttered. Did some baking. Tried to make another (weaker) Hurricane with some remaining supplies.
I was just about to start in on the tasty beverage when the phone rang.
It was bad news and I had to be somewhere else.
Ten minutes later and I don't think I would have been able to drive a car. I suppose there's a lesson there.
Dumped the drink down the drain (I should have just put it in the 'fridge, but I wasn't thinking.
I didn't leave immediately. I had to get my head on straight and deal with that whole stuff-in-the-oven thing.
The weird thing was that while I fought my way through rush-hour traffic to get to my destination, I kept thinking "jesus... what if that call came a half-hour later? Would I still have tried to drive?"
No more cocktails for a while, methinks. And no crazy-strong ones.
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