Saturday, May 14, 2016
Protect Me from What I Want
I get home and damn! No beer. What to do? I considered a run to the Acton Trading Post for a six pack, but decided no. Instead, I opened the liquor cabinet where a dusty collection of hooch sat patiently waiting for me to remember they existed. Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll have a Jameson with a cool cube in the middle. One drink will do it.
There was maybe one and a half fingers of the famous Irish whiskey left in the bottle. Not enough for a decent drink. So when I finished off the Jameson, I cracked the seal on the bottle of scotch I bought several years ago. .......................... And then it was off to the races.
I gave up drinking hard liquor for about 20 years. I consciously stopped because when I was younger and got into the Demon Rum, I often did not stop drinking it until there was nothing left in the bottle or bottles. When I sobered up, many missing hours would haunt me like a bad dream. Friends would tell me of my antics, funny and sad. Bridges would be burned. And I would be totally unaware of what happened. ........... I liked my hard stuff too much. So I quit.
A few years ago I decided it was okay to drink again. I was older, wiser, and figured I could handle it. So far, this has been the case. A six pack will last me a month sometimes. A bottle of whiskey will last me years.
Well, last night, I got schnockered, shitfaced drunk. It snuck up on me. I was not falling down drunk, but only a shot or two away by the time I collapsed on the couch about 10:00PM.
Which leads me to today as I sit here painfully using the few brain cells I have left to write this post. When my eyes opened at their usual 4:30 AM, the first thought that passed through my mind was, "Oh yeah. There's another reason I quit drinking. Waking up feeling this bad really, really sucks."
Some lessons need to be repeated to protect us from what we want.