[WP] You have a 40 oz beer permanently stuck to your hand. It never goes empty, flat, or gets warm. Describe how this effects the rest of your life.

Another meeting was taking place. Not the type that was worth spending your limited life on this earth being in. It was just another meeting where several "executives" were trying to justify their existence in the organization. Nothing of much importance was being said. A lady whose position had been terminated several months ago was now head of production safety. "We must not have any trash in the hallway" she said. An outsider might consider this a reasonable statement from a safety coordinator, but yet she said, "I saw a single sheet of paper on the floor and someone could have been seriously hurt in the process!" escaped her lips.

This was not a kind lady. She had a husband, and a child, and yet she was unhappy with her life. One could tell simply by the way she moved and the look on her face. No -- not a resting bitch face -- more like "I deserve better than this." After the meeting my trusted executive manager told me "I dont get it; I dont get how anyone could possibly wake up to that on a daily basis" -- but I digress.

Here I was sitting in another wasted meeting, forced upon me with no ability to speak up; and worse too young and inexperienced to tell her this was a waste of every-ones time, alas that is hindsight many years later. As I sat there contemplating why I was being paid to be unproductive I noticed a chill on my right hand.

It is difficult to explain, the cold inexplicably only affected my right hand. As the meeting went on and my frustration grew at the nonsense in front of me, in one blink I saw the manifestation of a fine German ale appear before my eyes in my hand. As shocked as I was by this very sight it seemed that I was the only one that could see, smell, or taste this nectar of the gods.

I took a sip. Suddenly the warning that one should not bang their head against a door -- a statement that should be obvious to anyone -- seemed a little less insulting. A few more sips and my inclination to tell this woman off became less pronounced.

There was a time when beer, wine, and liquor was part of any board room meeting. Some say it can dull the senses. In excess it can cause irreparable harm to ones self and society. And yet, when I think back at that one horrid meeting of tens of dozens I've encountered that was productively meaningless and full of individuals who only like to hear themselves talk; I take another sip.

Unfortunately balance is the key; one can not write software or operate heavy machinery at the same time as a beer in one hand and a joint in the other; as godly and earthly as both substances may be.

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