Was I That Bad?
153 days sober today. Still struggling with various challenges, but doing very well.
I am co-hosting an event with someone. We are getting together a group of writers for a reading/signing/meet-and-greet evening. The other guy called me last night. He was obviously pretty drunk.
Slurred words, repeating himself over and over (and over) again. Babbling. It took quite some time to get off the phone, and it was both infuriating and sad.
I am sure I was that bad. Not on the phone, because I had the wisdom to stay off of it when I was drinking. Every night, in other words. I never made any calls, and I never answered the phone when drinking heavily.
But, yeah, drunks are a pain in the you-know-what. I'm sure we all thought we were cute and clever. Full of life, right?
Wrong. Full of false bravado, sickness, and pain.
I have no tolerance for it anymore. Mostly because it embarrasses me. I wince when I think back to situations where I was droning away to someone who was not drinking.