Every time I sit down on the couch in the big den, I feel like something is crawling all over me. Upon reflection, I've decided it could be one of three things.
Something COULD be crawling all over me. With one Golden Retriever and one feline Golden-Retriever-Wannabee in-house, and three mutts and five cats in-and-out-of-house, we could have fleas. I don't have any bites, but....there could be fleas. In which case, I need a beer. Maybe if I put a spoonful of beer in a saucer by the couch, the fleas will jump in and then we'll ALL be happy!
I could be having DT's. In which case, I need two beers. Fuck the fleas.
I could have a serious muscular disorder and I'm going to be wheelchair-bound in two weeks and my children will be poor motherless waifs. So I might as well finish the entire 30-pack so it doesn't go to waste after I'm too frail to lift the can to my trembling mouth. (This one only occurred to me because of City Girl's revelation about cross-country flying and blood clots.)
Luckily, it's Friday. I can do whatever I want to, including going into the LITTLE den and sitting there ;-)