The sunbeams smash through the thick white blinds, beckoning me to the world outside. Yet I am trapped at my computer, bound to my task, trying desperately to get all my ideas onto the page. I imagine what it would be like to relax by the pool, carefree and drenched in sun. I have so much work to do. There’s one thing I know will appease my anxiety.

I reach for the minifridge next to my desk and reach for the sweet, cold can. As I pop the tab, my heart stops. The orgasmic surge of fizz pools at the surface. I bring the can to my lips, eager for the relief of my thirst and the stimulation to my brain. I sip, then “ahh” like in the commercials. I gaze outside and imagine that I’m stretched out in my bliss, sated by the drink.

I set the can down and return my hands to the keyboard. Liquid fuel at my side, I’m ready to get back to work.

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Writer by day, circus artist by night. I write about art, media, culture, health, science, and where they all meet. Join my list:

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