A Dialogue. With Myself.
Today was brutal.
You’re telling me.
I need a break.
Candles and a hot bath should do it.
You wanna tell me when I’ll find time for that?
Maybe just one glass.
You know you won’t stop there.
Sure I will.
When was the last time you actually did?
Okay, so two glasses.
Think about the headache.
I wonder if they carry that Pinotage I had at Baci.
Should you really be spending that money?
I could always get a box.
Yeah. No empty bottle to accuse you at the end of the night.
Not even a little.
I just need to feel better.
You’ll feel worse tomorrow.
But I’ll feel better tonight.
Yeah, for about three hours.
There’s always Ibuprofen.
Add your kidneys to the casualty list.
I’ll drink lots of water.
I’ve heard that before.
I’m choosing to live in the moment.
Tomorrow has enough trouble of its own.
Exactly. So why add to it?
So I can get through tonight.
Read. Cook. Write. Go to bed early.
I can do all that and have a glass.
Yeah, cause you do all that so well when you’ve “had a glass”.
You know, you really are a prude.
And you’re a lush.
Here’s the turn. Home is left. Wine is right.
Go left. Left. Please, go left.
But he’s not waiting there.
No. He’s not.
Right it is.
Maybe just one glass…
You know I won’t stop there.