I had a dream this afternoon. I never record dreams, much less anything else. Since my diary is reserved as an outlet for frustrations and rage, and this seemed one step above "notepad worthy", here goes...
I seemed quite sober and was at a little bar. I was about to order a drink and noticed an unstable woman on my left. The bartender, a small, skinny gal with thin longer hair asked what would I like, and I wracked my brain for something strong but light tasting. I ordered a double (fancy) vodka with a shot of Malibu rum (or similar) on ice. The bartender exclaimed "Hey, that's my favorite... I drink 7 of those a night"! I may have ordered 2 of these but clearly remember thinking, as I observed the small, tall glass she was using to prepare my delicious drink on ice ... "that's not too bad. Not bad at all."
