True to form, I missed my soberversary again. Maybe it’s easier to keep track and remember this stuff when you go to AA and get coins and all the flair. Whatever.
Feels like it has been longer than four years, though, although I’m not sure how much of that is because everything since President Dollhands entered the national conversation seems longer. Still don’t miss drinking at all and wouldn’t go back to drinking if you paid me, but I’d say once or twice a year- usually on the first really nice day of the spring- I’ll be driving home and think “I’m gonna sit on he back porch and get hammered.” Well, not really think it, I mean I think it, but it’s more like one of those random ideas that pop into your head stream of conscious style when you’re driving along and not really thinking and sort of just driving and listening to music. And then I snap back to reality and say “Oh yeah, I don’t drink anymore.” And then that’s that.
I’ve learned a few things, too. When people offer me a drink, I no longer blurt out “No thank you, I am an alcoholic,” because that sort of blunt reveal unsettles people and then they spend time feeling bad and apologizing, and that’s not fair to them. Not to mention, it means they will keep talking to me to apologize, and that’s just self-inflicted punishment. I just say no thank you and move on. I guess I really haven’t learned that much after all.
Honestly, I don’t know how I afforded to drink as much as I did. I guess I switched from a drinking problem to a house and backyard problem with a little canine cancer to spice things up.
But here’s to a few more years of sobriety, at least until I finally stroke out because the person driving in front of me stops when they have the right of way to wave someone into traffic or I finally see one too many people leaving shopping carts in the middle of the parking lot and shift off this mortal coil. Because I know that is how I am going to die. A spontaneous explosion of suppressed rage.