— Just two weeks ago I was running on 3 hours of sleep ...
... and on one particular night I'm dragged to the bar. And the bartender took one good look at me he just knew I didn't care to drink. But he engaged anyway. And - by no margin of error in my guess - he read my mind, worked the table, and made me lemonade. /bey
I went home that night without a care in the world about my responsibilities the next morning. And my 3-hour sleep shift went to an end.