So I woke up this morning with a headache and scratchy throat-almost felt hungover. My first thought? “Oh fuck, I’m sick. So I should spend all day in bed…….drinking.”
Ludacris, I know. Last night was a pain in the ass. I don’t know when Friday night began to automatically=GET FUCKED UP but I think it was somewhere around age 15, so I’m going against over 20 years of conditioning. Meanwhile, when you’re off the sauce, ALL YOU SEE is everyone drinking EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME.
The thing that pisses me off the most about the last ten months is all of the new associations I’ve given booze. Now night swimming at the beach NEEDS 2-3 mini Fireballs. A Thursday night powwow with my girlfriend requires 2-3 gin and tonics, extra lime please. A rainy Sunday afternoon curled up on the couch with my dog watching Hannibal is infinitely enhanced while sipping a bottle of $2.96 Moscato.
So now I have to wait for those pathways I created in my brain to hopefully fade with lack of footfalls. Without the constant reinforcement of alcohol+beach=fun, eventually it will become simply beach=fun again. This takes a while-it’s in no way instantaneous.
I remember by about 6 months sober it was astounding to me how everyone seemed to need alcohol in order to have a good time. They thought they were sparkling and interesting conversationalists when, really, they were just repeating the same banal opinions or rote experiences, in louder and louder voices. Go on, I dare you. Go to your favorite bar on a weekend night, sober, and just watch it all unfold. We are not who we think we are when we drink. We are sloppy, repetitive, boring and full of hubris. I liked who I was sober-with that army of days behind me. I already like myself better in these 6 days than I have in a long ass time. That’s something I suppose.