Walking a Fine Line

My previous blog post, I was going out for a “Girls’ Night” with my friends last Thursday. Let’s recap.

I had a good time, a really good time. Rebecca and Jaz are amazing women. It’d been eons since we’d carved out time from our work and families to see each other. We talked, we laughed, we had great food, and I have to admit we had drinks. I had a cocktail at dinner, another at a bar afterwards, and a beer to finish it off. Was I drunk when I drove home? No. Buzzed? No. I was a little tired, a little somber; I was ready to slip under the covers in bed with a book (too bad for hubby).

Huh.

The next night my family and I grabbed a bite to eat at a neighborhood bar & grill. Before we left the house, I had a vodka tonic for “Happy Hour,” then another at dinner, and–just like the night before–one more at home before calling it a night. Saturday? Same thing. My husband and I went out for a “date”, our first in ages, and I had three drinks over the course of our evening.

Seeing a pattern here? The next day, Sunday? Yep, I had a couple of drinks around the dinner hour, splitting a bottle of wine with my husband. It took me right back to the time “before”–my last winter and spring when I would spend a good part of my weekends slightly buzzed. Going to bed Sunday night, I promised myself that I would take some time off the booze, put together a sober string of days. And so far I have…

But.

I can feel it, that raising of hair on the back of my neck, that niggling voice in my head whispering, “Be careful, Shannon. Be very, very careful.” It’s like I’m hanging on the beach, a sunny sky above me, no clouds on the horizon….oh yeah, but one. It’s there, far off in the distance, too far off to be a real threat to my spontaneous “vacation,” but the wind has picked up a bit, and I’m beginning to wonder if it could swing this way. If I could be looking at a raging storm soon.

And so I have to be. Careful. I have to read over my list of non-negotiables. I have to peruse old journal entries, remind myself of why I signed up for Annie Grace’s, Live Alcohol Experiment (giving up booze for 30 days). I have to stay on top of my cravings, not let myself slide whenever the spirit moves me. If I’m really going to do this “moderation thing,” I certainly can’t drink four days in a row…

So, I’m inputting a new rule: I cannot drink during the workweek, and I cannot drink on Sundays. If I have that rare outing with friends on a Thursday then that means I’m not allowed to drink the following night or Saturday (my choice).

We’ll see how this one goes.

Honestly?

I know I’m walking a fine line.

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