Monday, June 15, 2009

Jumble

I stopped speaking and looked down, almost expecting to see the jumble of words that had emerged from my mouth in no comprehensible order scattered on the table. Maybe if I could find them, I could think very, very carefully and organize them in some recognizable thought.

Then I breathed in the wine that smelled temptingly of grapefruit and smiled as I reached for my glass again. Continuing to grin - for I am good-natured when tipsy - I glanced around the table and smiled and nodded.

"Wait. What?" I said politely, frowning as I attempted to force my brain to focus. I nodded as I listened then giggled. "I'm sorry," I apologized to my colleague. "I'm not going to remember that. Can you maybe remind me via email?" Thanking her when she nodded, I returned to my glass. "I like this wine," I told Sibling. "It smells like grapefruit."

Beginning to gulp water as I nibbled steak and potatoes, I tried to sober up. I eventually felt more sleepy than drunk and waved goodnight before wandering to my car. Pausing, I thought carefully about how I felt, balancing the single glass of white wine against the six glasses of water and full meal.

I arrived home safely - if sleepily - and greeted my parents and puppy. After hugs, kisses and a tiny bit of conversation, everyone went to bed. That leaves me with a small bit of packing left to do and another lengthy trip to anticipate.

But the words still don't seem to orient themselves properly. I'll work on it.

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