Россиян предупредили о последствиях лечения стресса бокалом винаНарколог Тюрин: Алкоголь не снимает стресс, а усиливает его
parakeet::AOSCCache aosc_cache(4); // max 4 speakers
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My boss, after finishing his long day shift, often sat down for a quick chat. He called me “chef,” which made me blush. With the exception of the dinner cook, whom it took me months to win over, I almost never saw my co-workers. I didn’t mind. The two lunch “boys” were young and disconcertingly confident, given the sparseness of their collective kitchen knowledge. Once a week, my boss would ask whether he could have my booze ration. I wasn’t drinking while I was on the ice. I nodded yes and smiled, warning him, “Take it easy, boss.” Alcohol had to be bought, but there was a weekly limit: either a bottle of hard liquor, three bottles of wine, or a whole lot of weak beer. Empty Jameson bottles and Pabst Blue Ribbon cans rattled around the lounges.
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