12 Hours

Its 6 pm. You walk in the door and realize in a short twelve hours you’ll be going back.

You open the fridge and grab a cold Fat Tire. You’ve gotten fussier with your beers as you’ve gotten older. It has to be decent beer these days. Your beer usually needs a bottle opener, no more screw or pop tops for you.

The first one barely hits the sides. It’s been a day. Most of them are, aren’t they? It’s a job few people…

--

--

Self discovery in progress, stay tuned

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store