why are you avoiding better?

may i please just use this space to complain. no need for a response. i am just going to vent. mostly i’m talking to  myself:

  1. dear self. enough with the fucking sore shoulder, do you think that rolling out pastry for 50 individuals pies yesterday was going to go unnoticed? holy shoulder batman. i’m going to physio next week. i have to. even if they can’t help ‘nerve pain’ i have to try. and i’m going to complain to my doctor. she’ll order an ultrasound. i’ll waste more time waiting for non-answers. but i’m going to do it. argh. [we suffer a long time before we start to TRY things that we’re SURE won’t work for us because our pain is SPECIAL. jesus.]
  2. dear self. the idea of a second fridge, while entirely useful for a large catering job, is in fact too loud to be right by my head in the office. I hear it all day. OK, there are 50 potpies in there, and the fucking fridge had to run for 4 hrs to cool it down properly. what i need is a big commercial fridge. yeah, like that’ll be quieter. the noise. i thought it was pigeons on the balcony. that’s the noise this new fridge is making. i’m going to return it. just as soon as i deliver the fucking potpies tomorrow morning. [as a group, we are overly sensitive. to everything. to noise, to smells, to exhaustion, to overwhelm, to dog food commercials.]
  3. dear self. that one bread product that’s due tomorrow that you have not made even ONCE in advance to make sure the recipe works, that’s just foolish. in the extreme. you watch yourself not doing the trial, because why? because you’re worried it won’t work. and instead, maybe it will work, and you could have retired this thought from your head 3 weeks ago. and if it doesn’t work, what are you going to do tomorrow morning when it’s catering delivery time? why are you setting yourself up like this? you haven’t slept through the night properly in weeks (shoulder + catering). yes, you keep running, yes you’re smiling, yes you’re making dinner for your husband, yes it’s sunny (but cold). yes. yes. But it could be BETTER. why are you avoiding BETTER? What the fuck is it about you that makes slamming your hand in a car door seem like a good idea? [when there’s an easy way to do something, we choose the hard way.]
  4. dear self. your reward for finishing this fucking wedding catering is an iphone. you’ve done this noble no-phone thing long enough. there are apps out there that you you probably ‘need’ – all this printing out maps on paper and then getting lost on the highway? that has to stop. and the truly embarrassing and shameful and embarrassing (and embarrassing) thing is that JP in Team 100 was so amazingly generous and she GAVE you $x00 using the tiny gift button. In November. Yeah, 6 months ago. And you haven’t bought yourself a treat yet. This is a shame. Truly. What is up with you? You kept telling her (and yourself) that you hadn’t found the RIGHT treat. you didn’t want to ‘waste’ the gift. you weren’t sure you needed a kitchenaid stand mixer so you did a month’s research. and then didn’t buy it. you’re doing all of this catering without a stand mixer. are you high? JP said this: “Hi Belle Here is a donation for you! Thank you so much for all you do! xo jp” And you’ve just sat there, staring at it this money. Is it that you think you don’t deserve it? does it feel totally scary when people give you money that you think you haven’t ‘earned’ … buy an iphone, OK. just get over yourself. buy an iphone 6, black, with a data package. and then play video games on the metro like everyone else. [the amount of money isn’t important here, the feeling of ‘not good enough’ is.]
  5. dear self. the last time you catered a wedding you had 3 people come and help you. you were just over one year sober, and you were very careful to avoid overwhelm. Now you can handle more, and you don’t feel wobbly in your sobriety, but that does NOT mean you don’t still need help. yes this wedding job is much smaller than the last one. and yes you did it all in advance (except for the bread product). but if you had someone doing it with you, it would have been easier, been done on time, you’d have been more organized, and you wouldn’t have had to do it alone. what’s with the alone nonsense? Stephanie offered twice to help and you said no. What’s up with that? You didn’t NEED her help? [take their milkshakes.]
  6. dear self. your life may seem glamorous to others. the european location, the first-world-problems of catering. you’re still a regular human with regular problems. these same problems will surface whether you’re trying to figure out how to carpool to the sports event, or how you’re going to get all the studying done, or if you’re catering a wedding at the embassy. you’re the same person in each thing. the problems are the same. you haven’t upgraded to a more ‘glamorous’ setting. you’re still you. don’t let anyone (Eleanor!) think you have it all figured out. you don’t. be among. [being sober longer means i finally get to use some of my brain resources on this stuff, instead of using all of my available brain resources on avoiding wolfie. don’t i make long-term sobriety sound great? hahaha].
  7. and finally, note to self: don’t do it like this again, OK? No kidding. you have to evolve now. enough fucking around. sleep all day on sunday. borrow someone’s car and drive to the water. do a long run. eat incredibly ridiculous food (pastrami! pizza! imported potato chips!). Then clean off your desk, OK?

[please read this with the spirit intended. if i get a lot of ‘must be nice to have THOSE problems’ then you’re missing the point. and if i get a lot of “you’re being too hard on yourself” – then yes, that is the point. why are we so hard on ourselves? why the hand-slamming? what does it serve?]

oh and ps, it’s beautifully sunny, and while i haven’t slept well this week, the catering is finished tomorrow afternoon and then i’ll be so freaking happy i can FEEL that feeling already. the feeling of it being done. of delivering the 9 layer cake, the 50 pot pies, the cheesecakes, the bread product. i want to transport myself THERE. and yet, i’m here. because i have things to learn here. things about hand-slamming. things about (more often) downloading the contents of my head so that it doesn’t spin too loudly.

Sure, I can quit any time

I am an unlikely candidate to have started a sober blog. Call it desperation if you like, I just had NO IDEA how to stay sober on my own.

I don’t drink that much, I say to myself. Yet I drink mostly every day. Some weeks I manage a few off-days but I hate them. Why can everyone else drink except for me? And then I cave as soon as someone offers me a drink. I read my morning pages, and I have written “drink less” and “you drink differently from other people” and “from now on I will only drink wine only on special occasions or when we have company or when on vacation or if it’s a really good reason.”

Yeah, that never worked. Ever. Not once. Never. Not one time.

Alcoholic? Well of COURSE I’m not an alcoholic. I mean, for christ’s sake, just look at at that guy panhandling in front of the liquor store. I’m not him. I don’t drink from a brown paper bag. I never miss work.

I’ve got alcoholism in my family and I’ve seen what it looks like. It’s grim. That’s not me. I just drink a bit more than I should. Sometimes. And not all the time. Sometimes I drink a regular amount. Mostly. I would never quit drinking forever. That would be like cutting off my right arm to deal with a hangnail. I just need to learn how to ‘manage’ my drinking.


I see something called Dry July and I think, hey that won’t be so hard. I’ll do that. It’ll be good for me. I could really do with a drying out period.

I don’t feel desperate when I decide to quit. I just feel tired of all the wine. And I really think I’ll like the challenge of it, like marathon training had been, like learning a new language, getting married, moving to Europe. All challenges. Giving up wine for a month? Should be pretty straight forward.

Sure, I can quit any time. Until it’s actually TIME to quit, and then man it kinda sucks. In a big way. It sucks ass.

I’d done a bunch of self-discipline things before. I’d quit for a couple days here and there. It’s not that I couldn’t manage my drinking (I told myself very smugly). I could manage it all right, I just hated managing it. Who wants to skip a day? Who wants to have one glass and then stop? I resented managing my wine consumption and I resented every person on the planet who happened to be drinking at that second. And every person past or future who might drink. Because I wasn’t.

Sure, I can quit any time. Until I’m sitting in the bathtub on day 7, really pissed off and irritated. It’s 7:30 pm or so. I decide: fuck it, sobriety is just too hard. I’m going to get out of the tub and go buy wine. You deserve it. This is too hard. You hardly had a problem anyway. You can quit again later. I decide to stay sober. I change my mind to drink. I change my mind to stay sober.

I’m about as irritated as I’ve ever felt. Maybe in my whole life. I feel like my skin is going to fall off from irritation. That I’m itchy on the inside.

I dry off, put on pyjamas, come in the office, right here, in front of this Apple cinema display screen, with this Dell wireless keyboard, and I read a sober blog.

Yes, apparently there are other people in the world who have quit drinking and have lived to tell about it. Fuck, they even seem to LIKE being sober. What’s the matter with these people?

I keep reading. I believe the words on my screen, and don’t believe them at the same time. It worked for her, it won’t work for me. I’m different, special, different, this is me, I’m not like that.

The next morning I write my first sober blog post.

Recovery is another word for freedom

As i was shopping today at the specialty wine store for a valentine’s catering event, i decided right there in the store that i was going to drink wine tomorrow night.  buying all this nice wine for a wine tasting, can you blind-taste-test which one is Italian versus Chilean versus French versus American? Clients love this kind of shit.  Really love it. It’s like an ice breaker that gets everyone talking, they vote on which one is the italian wine, then we do a great unveiling, and the one italian guest in the crowd will gloat, etc.

And i thought, “yeah, i’m having some too.”  because, you know, fuck it.  i have a cold (this happened the last time i had a cold, too). and cuz it’ll be valentine’s day. and because really this has gone on long enough.

I came home and said to husband: “it feels like i’m going to drink tomorrow night.”

He says what he always says … nothing. I think he’s used to me doing this, periodically, i just lose direction and starting to drift.

I head out to the third store for more specialty food stuff, and i buy myself some cranberry juice and ginger ale to mix.  for tomorrow.

Because like before, when i get to this very adamant place where I feel that I want to drink right now, I go ahead and decide to WAIT for a week and then reassess.  If i still want to do a three-bottle-red-wine-taste-test in a week’s time, I can do it then.  Not tomorrow.  Not without true thought and consideration.  I am not ‘falling off the wagon’ because of an impulse decision. Or when i have a cold.  I’m just not flaking out now. Later maybe. not now.

Next week. i’ll revisit it again next week.  There will be plenty of future opportunities when i can drink again, if i so decide, it doesn’t have to be valentine’s day, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow.

NOT when i have a cold. NOT when i just want to pitch it all in and say ‘fuck it’.  NOT NOW.

i will read some more of the new recovery book tonight.  and i’m going to play cards with my husband. he always wins. and i will go to bed and wake up tomorrow feeling better.  this is the truth. it always works out this way.

Today I will do what others won’t

In writing to my sober penpal, Amy, last week, i was telling her how i was out for dinner and someone was asking about my not-drinking.  He’s a nice guy, someone who’s told my husband and i that he admires how we’ve constructed our lives… anyway he seemed like just the right place for me to practice telling my sober story differently.

cuz when i first quit, i didn’t want anyone to notice; then once i got my sea legs i was pissed off that no one noticed i wasn’t drinking. Now i seem to be in a new place. I’m not changing the facts, just how I talk about why i’m sober.

I told this nice guy that it started as a 30 day ‘experiment’ for Dry July, but that I found it harder to quit than I thought I would. We agreed that booze is everywhere – in ads/tv/associated with major events, at christmas, at new years, even at the dinner we were attending that very night. It’s assumed everyone will drink.  Everyone drinks.

I told him that the longer I didn’t drink, and the more I got to stand outside of what everyone else does, I could really examine it, and try to figure out what worked best for ME.  Everyone else just drinks (in different amounts, but most people drink) and they do so perhaps without ever really considering if that’s what’s best for them.

i told him that once I had quit, I realized I was better off without it.  I sleep better, I get more done, and it has started a ball of self-improvement rolling  downhill (i didn’t mention my sober car, but you know what i mean).

Now, what’s changed?  All of this story is true. I don’t have to share with anyone, nor is it anyone’s business, as to how much I drank, or how many times i thought about quitting before I actually did.

I’m telling a TRUE story, but I get to decide HOW I tell it.  and frankly, sober girls rock, and I felt GREAT after I framed my story like this … Amy and I agreed it was time for a new bumper sticker: sober girls rock… or … “when’s the last time you did something different from what everyone else was doing?” The great un-lemming-ing.

kinda like: Today I will do what others won’t, so tomorrow I can have a life that others can’t…

pings and pangs

it’s not just me. others in the sober world are also experiencing ‘pangs’ … i nearly said to my husband, as he was going out to do chores, “pick up some wine for tonight.”

He doesn’t need to buy wine, in that we have wine in the house, but that reflex of saying “i want some tonight” is really my way of saying: “make sure there’s enough wine for me tonight, make sure it’s ready and lined up, because i’m going to need some tonight.” Yes, that feeling is strong. This is probably as close to drinking as i’ve been in a long time.

Examination (i.e. keep writing until something makes sense):

  • i’ve had a cold for 4 days and i can’t taste anything and so i have a ‘fuck it’ kind of attitude
  • it was my birthday on the weekend and i swore i was going to not cook the whole day and would buy my cake. and i bought a slice of strawberry cake and the strawberries were BROWN inside. i had to pick the fucking strawberries out of the birthday cake.  i don’t have very high expectations for my birthday, it’s not like i expect anything to really happen, but this year there were no gifts (mom send $, sisters and father just say hi on FB) and my husband and i aren’t buying each other presents as money is too tight and we’re trying to save for next summer’s Big Vacation to go HOME.
  • the cafe that has been hiring me to do weekly catering for them has abruptly stopped.  she didn’t offer an explanation and when i asked if she’d just missed the ordering deadline she admitted that they were slow. it’s been two weeks now.  so i went by on Sunday and there’s a bunch of food there, it’s just not mine. i’m sure it’s easier to order it all from the carrot-cake girl. even if it isn’t as yummy as mine. they’re serving reheated boxed soup instead of mine. too bad for them, my stuff is much nicer.
  • my personal catering clients are keeping me busy, but not wacky busy.  my day job has ramped up a bit and i’ve suddenly got quite a bit of computer work to do. this sitting in front of the computer (versus being in the kitchen) seems to breed the wine feelings … when i’m busy in the kitchen i know i have to be sober to get it all done.  whereas when i’m just doing one job (and not three), the urgency to remain sober isn’t there.
  • THERE IT IS.  if i’ve been filled with by an ‘urgency’ to be sober, then the urgency is fading.  i’m not sure what the point is any more.  i feel like a three year old about to pitch a tantrum.  god is this what happens to me when i’m a bit bored/sick?
  • i think i’d like a break from it all.  i’d like a dark room and a good book and a glass of red wine. When i was quitting smoking over 13 years ago, i would occasionally have one cigarette when i felt like i JUST HAD TO HAVE ONE.  and they were always disappointing and then eventually i just didn’t give in to that feeling.  With quitting drinking, for whatever reason, there seems to be a finiteness that means that i can’t just have a glass tonight and decide it’s not worth it.  if i have a glass tonight, the sober blogging world comes crashing down, AA would consider it a failure, and we’re just not that tolerant a group when it comes to periodic lapses; days counted MEAN something.  i’m not sure why it’s like this — i mean, i’m the same way, i’m not pointing fingers, i’m just observing.
  • i guess i’m rationalizing in my own ridiculous way that i wasn’t a problem drinker, and that i could probably go back to some kind of random bits of wine here and there and the world wouldn’t end.
  • When the bakery/catering work slows down — ah, is this it? — it seems to ‘not be worth it’… as if the bakery work is the only good thing in my life, the only reason to be sober, and without it i might as well be drinking.  Yes, i guess – today – that IS what i believe.
  • i think when i don’t have a cold i’ll feel better. i’ll wait until Friday and then reassess.


i’m ‘this’ close

was out for dinner last night, someone finally asked why i wasn’t drinking.  i got to explain the story ‘my-way’ and it wasn’t a big deal. i made myself look disciplined and happy with my decision.

As we got up from dinner (@ 11 pm) i realized that i wasn’t feeling well.  at all.

i headed off walking with the group to the train, but stopped 3/4 of the way there, said i forgot my phone at the restaurant, and went back for a bathroom stop.  Still not feeling great and knew i had to get home.  was too far to walk, a cab would be awkward, a train impossible.  stood around for a bit trying to figure out what was going to happen to me physically.  I walked to the train trying to psych myself up for it.  I got on the train, then got right off again before it left the station. found another bathroom. paid and re-entered, got on the train again, but wasn’t paying attention and went in the wrong direction. got off and changed sides and started again.  finally got home at 12:30 am, spent another while in the bathroom.  didn’t get to sleep until 1:30 am.

Today i am understandably exhausted.  I got up, did almost nothing all morning, went back to bed at noon and slept 2 hrs.  Then i forced myself to get dressed and to go out for supplies as we’re gearing up for another 3-day passion/job thing.  Worked hard late in the afternoon.

Now it’s evening (9:45 pm).  still headachey.  i have eaten today and all seems well enough.  i’m hydrated.  i have an appetite.

i just feel gigantically terrible.

i have the feeling that i used to get, when i would quit drinking for a few days and then started again.  i have a feeling that goes like this:

what’s the point, why bother, i’m not quitting forever so i might as well drink now.  what’s the point in working as hard as this, to feel as crummy as this? it’s all not worth it. i can’t even go to bed because i have so much work to do to get ready for the weekend.  i swear i’m taking some time off after this.  and fuck this, i’m going to drink again on day 90 (in 7 days). i won’t be impulsive about it, i will plan it, but i’m just over this whole thing.

Now thank god i keep a blog because i realize i got to this place before, this exact same place.  it’s when i feel sick and exhausted. i get in this weird loop of surfing the web, feeling like there’s too much information out there and i’ll never catch up, i’ll never figure it out.  whatever it is. who knows what it is.

right now, i am going to eat again, and then go to bed.  i’m going to try very hard to sleep through the night, for at least 8 hrs.  i’m going to try super hard to run tomorrow morning. i’m going to work like a dog for 3 days.  we are going to earn money. it will be worth it.  i’ll get a second wind (later).  i will socialize and love the people i meet. I will drink a lot of water and i will take a bath every day. with bubbles and candles.

i will not drink.

but i am sorely, desperately tempted.  I’m ‘this’ close.

i am teetering

I am wobbly. I will  not drink but it has crossed my mind that now would be a good time for a glass of wine.

Friday I had the meeting with those guys about the thing. the meeting itself went very well. they loved me and the samples and were talking future plans even beyond the next three months.  i got a tour, everyone is nice, we reviewed my samples, i said what i can and can’t do, they were thrilled with all of it. i offered to do more than they asked, and they then added some extra stuff to my responsibilities.  i’m girl who likes to be in charge of the bits that will directly affect me.  they were like “cool, take this and this.”

then right at the end, after a pleasant 30-40 minutes, one guy in the meeting says “you’ve got the right paperwork/certification/legal thingy for this, right?”

I say No, I don’t. I had told Woman that when she called me in for the interview.

There’s a tight awkward pause.  i know enough from negotiating experience to know that i’m not supposed to speak then, just wait.  and i waited.

and the guy says “well, our lawyer will give give you something that says that we assume that you’re certified, and that you’ll pay your taxes, etc. and then we sort of leave it up to you.”

i nod. there’s an understanding here.

i leave and walk all the home (45 minutes) feeling like i’ve been kicked in the head.

They seem to be ok with me being the right fit for the job, but i don’t have the right checkmarks in the right boxes.  they have to prove on their side that they’ve tried to check the boxes.  i have to nod and everyone knows what’s going on.  There probably isn’t anyone else in town who can do this for them, who has my particular skill set.  if they don’t go with me, they’ll have to rethink their entire thing, and it starts september 24.

i’m not a big rule-follower, but i’m in a foreign country and this kind of shit makes me nervous, and that nervous feeling makes me want to drink. i know there are lots of countries where people just sort of nod and wink and stuff gets done and nothing is ever really legal.  i guess i’m in one of those places right now.

i said to husband, they probably won’t go through with it.  if i was them, given what they’re asking me to do, they really should have someone who’s certified.

and then about an hour later, friday afternoon, their order came in specifying that they’d like me to begin september 24th and asking for a price breakdown for the first week’s deliverables.

so since yesterday afternoon, i’ve been teetering.  i want the opportunity AND i’m scared of the legal stuff, though i have every confidence that i can do the job safely and without problems for them.

but it would be sort of like hiring a handyman to do your plumbing.  He’s not a plumber, but he knows how to do it.  there are no plumbers available, and in this case, there’s no option of finding a plumber.  The company could redesign the house to bypass the plumbing problem.  Or they can say to the handyman: “we will give you a statement indicating that we assume you’re a certified plumber. and then we leave the rest up to you.”

i’m teetering.  i feel like i should have a drink of wine and think about this.  I feel like i should turn down the opportunity. I feel like i should go for it and after a few weeks it’ll all seem normal and i’ll forget how i feel now.  I should remember that maybe this is me afraid of a super-great opportunity masked as a fear of regulations.  i feel like i should wait to see what their lawyer sends. i can’t get certified in this country for another 2 years, and so there are no easy or simple solutions.  wine seems like an easy and simple solution…

Even my husband said, when i suggested that i feel like wine, he said “the good feeling doesn’t last very long, maybe only about 20 minutes, and then the rest is just pouring more booze in on top.”  that seemed profound.

i’m not drinking, but i’m teetering on this job adventure.  i’m usually very brave in my professional life.  i’m far from home and i’m nervous.  and that makes me want to drink.

Note to self: Beware! Good feelings ahead!

well that’s interesting. a big giant trigger i haven’t experienced in the past two months, completely unexpected feeling of OH GOD i need a drink to smooth this out, to take the edge off, to remain calm.

and what happened? what was the trigger?

a request to go in and present to a big new (potential) company on Friday morning. oh and can i come with samples? But of course (yeah right, let me check … i have nothing on hand).

This is important to me for several reasons. I have two primary sources of income and i’ve been playing with a third source for about a year.  it’s making about 400 euros a month now, it’s a side-hobby kind of thing, but it’s my real passion in life whereas my two other jobs are very successful and lovely and i have great clients, colleagues, managers, but they’re not why i’m on the planet.

the presentation on friday is for the 3rd passion-side-hobby job. it would seem that they’re not entertaining other vendors; i have been recommended to them from a previous one-time-only client, and they’re pretty sure they want to hire me based on her referral. the Friday meeting appears to be to talk about logistics, what i can do, what i can’t do, what i won’t do, and what i’ll charge, and to show me the space and meet their team.

the urge to drink? as soon as i hung up the phone.  a low thrum of excitement, a thrill even.  Yes, a feeling of hooray! Not panicked or manic or overwhelmed or nervous, just happy and excited for the opportunity

and that, my friends, made me feel like drinking.  Happy and excited = one shot of vodka into my tonic and cranberry.

Instead, I ran some warm water and did the dishes by hand instead of putting them into the dishwasher.  I ate half of a toasted english muffin as a snack. and then i figured i’d come in here and write down the contents of my head …

Note to self: Beware! Good feelings ahead! May inspire alcohol cravings! Take necessary precautions! : )

Light bulb moment: Who knew that i drank to be less excited? i thought I drank when things were shitty.  that’s not even true, i drank no matter what the emotion.  happy, sad, depressed, lonely, angry. Oh, look there’s an emotion, time to drink.  How foolish. instead i will now mellow into this happy and pleased feeling of being chosen and being recognized for my work. Maybe there’s some cake in my future …

the end of an experiment

As I come up to my 60 day anniversary, i’m finding myself in a place similar to where I was when i was coming up to 30 days.  Am i continuing this sober experiment or not? I won’t bore you with all of the thought processes, because i think they’re predictable. I didn’t set out to quit forever, my goal was dry july. I’ve done nearly 60 days with your support and encouragement. but i don’t feel like i’m doing it for myself anymore.

i continue to vacillate between pink clouds and wishy-washy-ness in the same day, moreso in the last 10 days.

sigh. I feel like i’ve spent my summer doing this, and i regret it, which is ridiculous. But i feel like i’ve wasted my summer staring at my computer screen and trying to find answers in books instead of being out in the world (or baking in my kitchen). Being on quasi-vacation for the month of August is also turning out to be terribly long and hot and supremely boring and mostly disappointing.  Our ‘official’ vacation, where we get to travel, doesn’t start until August 31st.  And by then summer will be over.

I should have done this differently.

So anyway. I’m just announcing this now, so that there’ll be no big shocking ending, or weirdness.  I am going to end my sober experiment at the end of the month.  i am not planning to drink that day, and I’m not going to return to drinking every day, but i’m tired of this. Like, supremely tired. Yes, the wolf is getting quieter and quieter.  Yes it’s getting easier. But to what point? I’ve lost the plot now.  I’ve saved some money and lost a few pounds and i’ve exercised my self-discipline in ways that most people don’t or can’t. That’s super.

Yes, i’ve had lots of good days, and i’m happy that i’ve done this because i got to hang out with you-all.  amazing support and guidance and grit and warmth. But lately it feels like i’m spinning my wheels, and that my life is on some kind of gigantic pause. I know that drinking a glass of wine won’t lift the pause button, but over-focussing on not drinking certainly has put me on pause …

sorry. i’m not trying to be dramatic. i’m not crying or flailing around.  i’m trying to be real. every time i post something like this, i think i’m going to delete it in 10 minutes. i’m tired of thinking about drinking. that’s the name of this blog. i’m in a pit now of thinking too much again, just on the other side of the topic. I am not drinking. And i don’t have specific plans to drink.  I’m just really really tired of the pause button feeling. i don’t know how else to describe it.

Ode to red wine

i don’t usually post twice in one day. but i’ve been thinking about drinking just about the whole day. it’s like my toddler-brain is having a temper tantrum. and it sounds like this:

“why can’t i ‘take a few days off’ and then restart. other people have done it. relapse is normal. i think i’ll have myself a relapse.  would today be a good day for a relapse? well it’s the weekend, that’s always good. i’d like 2 glasses of red wine. yeah, i think i’d like some glass of wine, i mean, who wouldn’t.  well maybe i should wait until i have 50 days of sobriety (instead of today, day 49) because that would be a nice, round number. better to relapse on a ‘good’ number day.  better not to just fall off the wagon, how about if i plan to fall off. and god i don’t want to regret the relapse, so i’ll plan for it. and anyway, i was really only going to do 30 days and then i extended it to 60/90 and now i’m nearly at 50, so that’s good enough. what was the point of this anyway. this not drinking thing is tiring. i don’t want to post and read blogs any more, but i know that’s just me retreating so that i can have a few glasses of wine. i want it all to fucking stop — all the noise, all of it. i want the magical “i don’t need booze thanks” to fill me from top to bottom. and then i’d like some golden silence. instead of having to work at it. if not, i’m going to pour wine onto it until it shuts up.”

[stomps toddler-like feet, and slams imaginary door]

well that’s special, isn’t it? i’m not drinking tonight. i am baking a chocolate cake (9:32 pm). it’s gigantically hot tonight (40C/105F) so that doesn’t help. i will wake up tomorrow in a better mood, will have my sunday long run, and will get up super early to beat the heat …

here’s my (not yet famous) poem:

Ode to red wine.
fuck you
fuck fuck you
fuck you

~ love, Belle xoxo