Revelation

I like a cold Diet Dr Pepper (DDP) with my meal. That's not the revelation.

If I'm drinking a DDP that's grown warm, and it's meal time,  I'll start a new one--even before I've finished the first DDP.  Still not the revelation.

It was a stressful day Tuesday. Residents by the drove followed me down the hallway and hit me up with tasks and questions before I even sat down.  That was the good part of the day.  No revelation there. Just par for the course, albeit I usually am allowed to settle in prior to the onslaught.

On stressful days my desk is frequently cluttered with multiple partial DDPs.  Tuesday evening, as I gathered my stuff preparing to leave, I counted five partials and two fulls.  The trashbin held the empties--at least the ones I consumed since the trash had been removed earlier in the day.  Did I mention Tuesday was stressful?

Since there was less than an inch in each partial,  I decided to consolidate. I started pouring one bottle into another and tossing the empties.  When I heard a plop my tummy soured. There was no way that partial sat on my desk long enough to have started to grow something.

Curious as to what was in the DDP,  I poured it back onto the original bottle.  There it was again. But this time I was pouring slowly and expecting it, so I saw what it was when it crested the rim.

I shrieked with laughter as I remembered earlier in the day I had poured in a couple handfuls of peanuts.

I'm a forgetful dufus. That's the revelation. But you already knew that so it's not really a revelation.  It's confirmation. 

As if you needed it.