I've been drinking fruit punch today.
It seemed like the appropriate drink for Friday the 13th. A sweet drink to counteract some of my acidity. (Can a person be acidic? Yes, yes I think so.) I didn't want to get all hopped up on the 'punch, so I limited myself to one glass. A glass that lasted for most of the morning up until just these last few moments, here at 2:50 in the afternoon.
When I reached the bottom of the glass, the last little bits of purply red liquid sitting there, reflecting onto my kitchen table, I noticed a ---let's call it sediment--- a sediment of fruit punch bits floating in the liquid. Ewww, right? I'm telling myself that the fruit punch was just so darn fruity that it actually had pulpy bits of fruit in it, and that's what is left in the last bits of my glass. I'm telling myself this so as not to get all weird about what I just drank today.
Which brings me to this thought that I'm going to share with you here: dregs. We have them in our lives, right? Little bits of junk left behind from something good (or bad - I've seen dregs in V8 juice and I'm NOT a fan of the V8). The little bits can clog us up, hold us back, make us forget who and what we are. In my life, I have let these little pulpy bits stop me from truly embracing the moments. I have thought too much about the possiblities that I've missed the actual event.
I don't know if I'm making sense. I have a feeling I'm not, but I don't think it matters. What matters is that I've enjoyed a delicious glass of fruit punch. I am ignoring the nasty sludge left behind. And now I might take a walk down to the mailbox (Alice is asleep). Have a great weekend, my friends.