Monday, August 3, 2015


The other day I had decided to allow myself a bit of a treat, a break from my normal regimented dietary fare. I had a little bit of soda left in the fridge that I had purchased for my daughter, and I decided after a very hard day at work, that I had earned the privilege of having this with my dinner. Actually, I had decided to have this soda with my dinner even before the start of the day. The business of getting through a hard day at work was just further justification to set my conscience at ease.

The soda in question was raspberry Mountain Dew, an intoxicating variant of the original that I have grown to adore (in limited quantities of course). Just thinking of sipping that sweet, blue nectar nearly caused me to dribble a string of drool down the front of my shirt. After I had plated up my dinner and put it on the table, I took a the two-liter bottle from the fridge and filled my tall glass up to the top. I made sure that I didn't drink any of my soda during dinner, instead preferring to savor it after I had finished with my eating duties.

When I had cleared my plate, I brought it into the kitchen and placed it in the sink. This is the point that my evening fell to ruin. I am still not sure what happened. My plan was to put my dinner dish in the sink and then go and retrieve my glass o' Dew. However, some thought leaped unbidden into my mind and bewitched me, something from work that forced me to give it attention, to work through it, to unravel it. When I finally shook my head free from the spell, I headed back into the dining room but my glass of Dew was not there. Perplexed, I wandered back into the kitchen only to find an empty glass sitting on the edge of the sink, a small shallow trace of blue goodness staining its bottom. I had absolutely no memory of drinking my beverage. The moment was gone. I missed it entirely.