This is How it Happens

It is 9:00 pm on Sunday night, and I just completed a very enjoyable buzzed run to Safeway.  Buzzed Safeway is super fun, and I am now enjoying a chocolate frosted rainbow sprinkled donut that spoke to me through the self-service display case.

(If donuts were not self-serve at Safeway, how many would be sold??)

So how am I slightly drunk on a Sunday evening?

This morning I drove with Amy to her polo practice in Gilroy.  Even though she has a car and a license, I like to accompany her on Sunday mornings because 1) The ranch is beautiful in an earthy, junk-filled way, and 2) We get lunch after.

I missed Amy’s polo scrimmage this morning due to an extensive car nap.  We then had a highly caloric lunch at the Black Bear Diner, during which my husband texted me to come pick him up at our Croatian distiller friend Davorin’s winery and farm in Morgan Hill (a few minutes north of Gilroy).

Larry and Davorin sang in the choir together at church this morning, which somehow led to the two of them drinking massive amounts of red wine and driving Davorin’s new farm vehicle around the property.

When Amy and I arrived, we also had some red wine, because it is impossible to visit Davorin and Lucy’s farm and not be holding a glass of red wine, which they make on-site from their own grapes.

Amy pleaded homework, so we got back in our car to drive back to Los Altos, at which point I received a text from Jeanette and Ita to come over for a cocktail, which I did.

Two dirty martinis later, I found myself procuring dinner for the family at Safeway, and this is how the perpetually slightly drunk state happens.  It’s not too shabby.