Moving is absolutely terrible—do not do it if you do not have to—but I have moved recently, in with my boyfriend. And as I was leaving my old apartment, my roommates threw a party which resulted in an egregious amount of leftover wine. I’m talking 15 to 20 bottle range here, not just like an “oh no I couldn’t possibly—quick, get me my Key West Chalice” amount, but an “I have to incorporate strategy now, concerning how much wine I drink and when because there’s more of it than there is of me” amount. To include a box of Shiraz.
An entire, untouched box of Shiraz.
And, you know, waste not want not, so I took it with me and now I’m drinking—a bit to my dismay since I am not a fan—shots of Shiraz with lunch and dinner, telling myself all the while that maybe this will help with my blood pressure, or with living longer, or with something.