Lots of Monkeys

That first spoonful of ice cream after a period of withholding.

That first sip of beer after a week of abstaining.

I know, that never happens—but it’s evocative. Like an embrace from a friend you haven’t seen for a while.

Which I guess sort of explains my relationship with beer.

I sometimes hate my past self. I really don’t know what to say about this note.

I wrote a thought down, then never completed it.

Then, later revisited it and got angry with my past self.

It’s like I’m having a passive aggressive relationship—with myself.