Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Legacy data suggests drinking only improves my spelling, and with 1.5 mojitos down the chute, I fully expect tonight’s post to sing as adverbs fly off the assembly line in fine fashion. One refrain I’ve heard in the past few months claims alcohol, much like coffee, is an acquired taste, though in this case I’m not exactly sure what I’m acquiring, or whether I can possibly give it back. Coffee at least smells good, which biologically informs my other senses, but who can argue with 10-proof logic?

What I’m trying to cultivate is the illusion of enjoying alcohol, a simulation of normalcy that requires, I imagine, being able to enumerate two or three beverages I “like.” Unfortunately most drinks have that rich, oaky shit flavor, circa 2008. A very good year, I’m told. People deal with far more dire problems, however, and I’m well aware of this. I’ll keep you appraised of my findings.

Figuring out what can and cannot be imbibed aside, this whole skill acquisition campaign has been draining, and after you mix in golf along with the new site, I’m certifiably burnt out, apathy coursing freely through my arteries. It’s a terrible feeling made worse by constantly thinking about it, and what I’m intent on finding, here at these tired crossroads, is renewal. I’d like nothing more than to take a long nap and then, two to three weeks later, wake up refreshed, a completely different person. Perhaps I just need a vacation. But how do you take a vacation from yourself?