~That damn glass.

Empty: The laundry is piled up. I need a date with my clippers. The carpet needs a date with the vacuum. My thigh missed its appointment with its every 14 day needle.

Full: I made a really good Poor Man's Seafood Fettucine. I ate some. I didn't kill myself or anyone else.

The reality?

My glass has a fucking hole in the bottom of it, so I always try to make sure I have quick access to the keg.