Nonsensical

You know, I hadn't really thought about it. Although, I drank Saturday and Sunday also. Saturday was my party. It was a poker and pool party out on my deck. Ever since I bought this house last year I wanted to entertain on the pool deck, and Saturday it finally happened. A few hours in I decided to have some beers. It actually went quite well on Saturday. I just drank regular strength beers all evening. I had maybe 6 or 7. I didn't really count. I just kept a governor on it because I like entertaining more than I like getting drunk. I can't say that about very many things. If I could drink like I did on Saturday I wouldn't really have a problem.

Unfortunately, this just makes me thirsty on Sunday. I gave all the leftover beer from the pary to my son, and he took it back to college with him. I knew I needed to get it out of the house. Around noon I started to get the thirst. I had this great image of relaxing in front of the basketball game downing a few cold ones. I talked to my wife about it, seeing how disappointed she would be if I did. That answer was somewhat. I decided not to, but it kept gnawing at me, and instead of taking control, I let it gnaw away.

I went to pick up some sushi for dinner, and there was some confusion about the order and I had to wait while they made it. At the bar. I did a shot and a beer there and picked up a 6-pack of craft beer and took it home. I gave my wife my keys and endured her disappointed look. Then i found out the basketball game I wanted to watch wasn't on Sunday, it was on Monday. D'Uh. We watched a movie instead. I drank my beers and went to bed.

Monday I was thinking about it most of the day, waffling over whether to drink again or not. That familiar debate with my AV that I allowed to happen again. I knew what was happening, but I didn't really care. Ambivalence.

I picked up my dog's ashes from the pet crematorium on my way home from work. I had her put down on Saturday morning. It made me sad, seeing her box of ashes on the seat, and I picked up a half pint of bourbon and a 6-pack of craft beer. When I got home I also saw a bottle of wine leftover from the party and drank that first. Then the bourbon. Then the beer. I should feel a lot worse today than I do.

This morning my wife e-mailed me a picture of myself passed out on the floor last night, with a reminder that this is not the man I want to be. Not my best pose.

My resolve is coming back slowly this morning. I am struck by the thought that I should strive to be the man that dog thought I was.