It's the Little Things that Make Me Happy
There was a day not long past that I sipped Pinot Grigio, Arbor Mist, from a flute glass carefree. Every part of that decision, including choosing the fruity inexpensive Pinot Grigio instead of a brand that would probably be more satisfying but exhaust my already over-tapped pockets, was wrestled over and the decision made was sound to both me and my wallet.
I’d chosen a brand that was relatively light to the taste. It was enjoyable. It wasn’t pretentious. The same went for the choice of the flute over the wineglass. I knew that it wasn’t “proper,” but the revelry brought a type of delight that I hadn’t felt in awhile. So I sat with my $6.99 bottle of wine in my apartment watching television while consuming a chicken breast sandwich to die for. The wine trickled down my throat and the bliss, or slight drunken spirit that possessed my soul, from it made me happy that something as simple as choosing a bottle of discount wine could be so empowering.
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