Drink13 March 2016
Right now I feel as if I’ve melted. I’ve been drinking wine; half a bottle of a rather nice Merlot. It’s a ‘Turner Road’ or ‘Turner’s Road’ or something, my vision’s a bit blurry now too. I must also apologise in advance if this post makes more sense than the usual…
I say it’s a ‘rather nice’ wine but, to be honest, it’s not an objective statement based on what other people think, it’s simply one I like. Don’t get me wrong, I read reviews of red wines, Scottish single malt whiskies, preground coffees for my AeroPress, cars, computers, USB drives, NASs, dog and cat toys, TV stands… and occasionally even buy stuff rather than indulging myself with procrastination.
Other folks’ opinions are of course important to me, but I’m my own man. I was my own man even as a boy. Family life is attempting to beat that out of me; resistance is futile…
I spent quite some time choosing mt prefect whisky: a Laphroaig 15-year-old; first tasted on a cruise down the River Nile, now available only as a special edition, far beyond my budget. If I had a big birthday coming up I could perhaps flutter my eyelashes in the hope someone’d buy me one. But even I shudder at that prospect despite my innate sense that’ I’d be worth it.
So, this Merlot has achieved something a few hours of productive coding this weekend failed to. A sense of achievement.
No, I don’t understand either.