I just have to write something once a day. That’s the rule. That’s what I signed up for. All I do each day is polish the bar tops and wipe out the glasses after they have gone through the wash cycle. But, yesterday I became intoxicated and skipped a day of writing. Alas, I am not some Benedictine monk and cannot self-flagellate physically. So, I am punishing myself by relating what happened to you.

I love baths. I have a special bathtub made just for the moon. I have baths almost thrice weekly. I sit and drink some whisky and think. Over time these baths have become more complicated with the addition of oils, scrubs, bombs, and soaps. I make sure to have the best bath products ready for when I want to just get down and enjoy a nice hot bath.

However, a unintended side effect of these bath times is intoxication. You see, I have a small mini-bar setup right beside the tub. Last night, I was performing my ablutions and the whisky just tasted better for some reason. I took more and more drinks until I found that my heart was full.

As I tried to get out of the bathtub I realized that I had become intoxicated. I’ve always had a little bit of a superstition when it comes to alcohol. If you find yourself accidentally drunk it probably has a cosmic purpose and so you should continue drinking. Indeed, I got back into the tub and poured another bath and another drink.

No real good came of it. The cosmic purpose escaped me. Instead, I lingered on thoughts of loves past and slowly chipped away at the brain cells that contain those memories.

I must apologize for my actions; and I do.