600 bottles of wine not consumed
so i’m calculating all of the happy 50 day and happy 100 day notices for today. and i scroll down and there’s someone on day 599 and a half.
oh. it’s me.
then i started laughing. like laugh-out-loud-guffaw laughing. 600 days? jesus, who manages to NOT have a glass of wine for 600 days? No one. Oh wait. Me. I’ve done that. Fuckers. Do you know how long 600 days is? Yeah, it’s a long time. I am still chuckling, literally. Like, really. That’s 600 times I have not consumed alcohol after supper. Add to that the 100-ish times I’ve not had day-time alcohol (weekends, vacations). So probably it would come out to 700 individual times when I “could” have been drinking, that instead I’ve been sober. 700 times?
Did I say have to say “no” 600-700 times? Certainly not. when i’m at home working or baking or reading, i never think about drinking and i just do my thing. when i serve alcohol to clients, i recognize that booze exists, but i am not internally struggling. I just pour myself tonic water. How many times have I had to explain why i’m not drinking since i quit drinking 600 days ago? i can’t think of one single time since last July. which means that mostly only in the first year of my sobriety did anyone ever have a question, and since i’ve crossed the one year mark, i have explained my soberness exactly zero times.
how much money have i saved? $10 a day so that’s … yes, that’s $6000! good god. how many evenings would i have spent doing nothing? 600. how many days would i have been waiting for “wine o’clock”? all 600. every single one of them.
instead i have 800 sober penpals. instead (this week) i made bagels. instead (Saturday and Sunday) i got 12 hrs sleep each night.
instead I choose me, put me first. do things for me. take care of me. not always in the most active way, but at least i’m taking care of me by NOT doing something destructive, wasteful, and soul-destroying. I haven’t been drowning ‘me’ in wine. I still have crappy moods and shitty days and irritating moments. and then they fade and i move on. i get treats (mostly) when i need them. i could take better care of me i suppose. more time off, more baths, more talcum powder. I read a lot more than i used to. I still forget and have sugar mid-morning and then crash. I still forget and stay up too late watching the Great British Bake Off. I still forget and tell my husband that he’s acting like a 6 year old (he swears he’s at least 7).
but i will never forget the evening i started this blog. i remember i was sitting in the tub, deciding to drink, to quit, to drink, to quit. i felt like a person possessed.
for me, wolfie is mostly tamed now. he’s been tamed for awhile. i see him stick his nose out occasionally, but i swiftly (and harshly) slap him silly. I give him a kick up the anus. and i say “fuck you wolfie. you’re not longer in charge of ME.”
oh wait, that means i’m in charge of me? hahaha. ok then. time to get some real lunch (not cookies) and time to clean off my desk and do accounting (fun). well, just let me finish this episode of the bake off… oh and then there’s the canada/us hockey game. it’s the olympics. i haven’t seen anything else, just this one game.
ok. i’ll be a grown-up tomorrow. or the next day. i’ll start soon i promise.
anyway, this is me reporting in for today.
hugs from me,
ps. oh my god. 600 bottles of wine not consumed. 600. imagine what that looks like in your grocery cart. 600. it’s a stupidly large number. holy.