My husband recently gave up drinking for 30 days which has put me into a total tail spin of confusion and hurt. I mean I want to support him but I also did not sign up for a sober marriage so I’ve tried to find common ground by remaining moderately coherent Monday through Thursday. While this may seem like it aint no thing, think again. I mean, its not like I’ve turned my back on vodka but I’ve definitely taken a bit of a hiatus from my normal nightly buzz due.We are on day nine and I feel like I’ve landed in the fourth stage of AA – for those of you who aren’t familiar with the 12 steps, it’s the soul searching – moral inventory pit stop. I actually think that it’s probably the step that most people hit right before saying “fuck this”….. and landing back at the happy hour scene at their nearby Applebees conveniently located near Linda’s Low Priced Liquors.
I personally don’t believe in quitting anything completely even if it is just for thirty days. I mean who says you have to throw in the towel on all vices? Not me. Weekday vodkas have been such an integral part in the last decade of my life that I feel like I’m abandoning my mentor, the one clear thing in my life that has remained constant.
One of my only weekly perks is pouring myself a cold vodka vodka, hold the tonic, turning on NBCs Nightyly News and catching up on all the exciting world news of the day. Do you watch the nightly news? If not, start…. I’m real into it and it helps me get through adult conversations in a more convincible way. And can I just say bravo to Brian Williams…. He is such a cutey cute in a real manly buttoned up way. I wouldn’t mind letting him broadcast into my box…. I mean tv…. I mean box….. well you get it.
The last few nights I’ve had a wild wild west stand off with my dining room mini bar like I’m Wyatt Erp just waiting for the bar to make the first move so that I jump at an opportunity to attack.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a few cocktails but with every pour and sweet savory sip I can feel the judgment and guilt – probably the same bitter fumes that I give off when I’m trying to diet but miraculously we have a constant supply of 2% milk stocked in the fridge like we’re planning for a nuclear attack and intend on making it through the dark confusing nights with milk.
One odd solace I’ve found in my binge diet is that I really like the feeling of Vaseline coated onto my dry sober face at night. I literally have gone through almost an entire travel sized bottle in the last week. Strange, yet comforting.
I think my quasi dry spell is about up and this ole girl deserves a heavy cock to dip my tail in tonight.