The Light Weight

Not sure how this post will end up, finish, shit the bed, meet its demise. 

I spent this last weekend prepping for another colonoscopy procedure that went down yesterday at 12:20 PM at Southern Maine Med in Biddeford, Maine. Like most folks I guess, I hate the prep worse than the procedure. 

With my third colonoscopy under my belt now, I can say I have more than a passing aquaintence with the tubular TV camera they shove up.... Well, running that image through my mind conjures up all sorts of horror scenarios and unfounded concerns; but they knocked me out and when I woke up, I did not care about anything. My only question was, how did I end up back in the recovery room with a wonderful buzz I wish had been more awake for?

The rest of my post-op day was spent prone on the couch, falling in and out of the sleep I wish I had gotten 24 hours earlier. I was exhausted and very hungry. As a good ole boy somewhere, sometime must have once said:

"I was hungry enough to eat the ass out of a dead skunk." 

So, between my moments of slumber, I cleaned out the refrigerator. 

Today was the first normal day I have had since this butt peek gig started last week. I was busy today. I was uncharacteristically productive even if I did it in Low Low gear. 5 loads of laundry; then some puttering, laundry folding, and some more puttering. About 5:30-6:00, while I cooked dinner, I starting hitting the bottle of Skrewball that has been sitting on a shelf in the kitchen the last 3 or 4 months quietly waiting for some attention. I don't usually tolerate falvored whiskey of any kind. My one exception is Skrewball. It is unique and quite tasty, especially on ice.

Over the years, I have become a casual, moderate, almost teetotaling loser. I can still hold my liquor if I stop at 3 or 4 drinks. My championship drunks are many many years behind me now. By the third tumbler of Skrewball on ice, I was borderlined shitfaced. 

To my credit, the spaghetti and meatball dinner turned out fine. The mess I left, well, not so fine. I guess I should be thankful I did not have to clean the floor.

With a full belly and more than several Skrewballs on ice mingling with the pasta, meatballs and sauce, I came in here to my office, my man cave, the small room I waste time in; and I sparked up some doob. I had no goal in mind, just riding the buzz for all it was worth I guess. As it turns out, the doob might have been one or two tokes over the line. I ended up on the couch with the Whirlies. ........ I'm better now and trying to make some sense of this day that got away from me and the previous week that still haunts me.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ......................................

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It'd be so easy to pick one of my go to tunes that glorify the Demon Rum. Before I use a fall back choice though, I will spend some time looking for music I have never used before.

My search did not last long. I remembered a tune from my favorite Bluegrass and Blues artist in the 1970s. Here is David Bromberg with "Sloppy Drunk". Definitely a great whiskey sippin song.