There is genuinely no beverage on earth that transforms my entire nervous system faster than that first post-work sip of red wine. The moment it hits my lips, my shoulders drop three inches, my internal monologue switches from chaos to jazz, and suddenly I’m delivering a dramatic power ballad to an audience of no one in particular. It’s not even just drinking wine at that point — it’s a full cinematic scene. I’m swirling, I’m exhaling, I’m nodding thoughtfully like I’m critiquing a Bordeaux flight in 1997. Half a glass in and I’m already pairing it with a snack I didn’t know I owned and whispering “this is so good” to absolutely no one. By the second sip I have completely forgotten that I spent eight hours sending emails, pretending to understand spreadsheets, or arguing with software that refuses to load. That glass hits my bloodstream and I go from corporate goblin to French countryside poet in under 20 seconds. Honestly — that first after-work pour is my Roman Empire.