Another Friday

It’s Friday at 4:30. I’m looking down the nose at another weekend, my plan, without booze. What I know right now? My husband is home having himself a neat whiskey. He’s listening to music on his laptop, sipping away, while he does one of his “mock drafts.” Soon, I will get home and we will take the kids down the street to a new restaurant at the entrance of our neighborhood. Hopefully we won’t have a long wait, because if we do, it’s guaranteed that Rob will order himself a drink at the bar, which means he’ll order another drink at the table, which means he’ll get pretty intoxicated or at the very least pretty tipsy by the time he has another drink at home (when we’ll all watch a movie on the couch).

I’m hoping, I’m crossing my fingers that I don’t get easily annoyed or frustrated with him tonight. I feel like it’s going to be a tough one for me to abstain. Knowing that we have no reason to get up early tomorrow, nothing really on our plates this weekend other than my daughter’s tennis lesson tomorrow from 10-11, plants a shitty seed in my mind that if I were to be a little hungover in the morning there would be no real consequence.

EXCEPT!

I WOULD BE SO ASHAMED OF MYSELF!!! I would feel horrible in the middle of the night when I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I would deal with a headache, irritable bowls, perhaps a stomach ache, a racing heart, and then I would drag ass all day on Saturday, maybe even into Sunday. I would be depressed. Angry. Feeling helpless. So, so disappointed in myself.

No, I don’t want to drink any ethanol tonight. I don’t want to flood my body with toxins. With poison. I don’t want to ruin my dry streak. I’ve GOT to see what 100 days alcohol-free looks like. Feels like. I’ve got to keep going so I can honestly say my life would be or wouldn’t be better off without booze. If I keep fucking up every few weeks and have drinks on a Saturday night, I’ll never know what it is like. I’ll cheat myself out of something that could be pretty amazing.

So. Whenever I envision having a cocktail in a heavy, nice glass, I need to envision this instead…

Swiss Romance

I’ve got to picture my dream vacation at the moment. A place where it pays to be healthy. A place  you can go hiking and see INCREDIBLE vistas, waterfalls, charming Swiss Alpine villages. I’ve got to picture myself with a backpack on, a healthy tan, fit and in shape, a travel journal clutched in my fingers, a camera, a smile on my face, feeling the spray from cascading waters, the warmth of the sun, the taste of new, foreign cuisine, the experience of shopping in picturesque boutiques, meeting interesting people from all over Europe. 

I’ve got to be IN THE WORLD. Thinking of travel. Of incredible adventures. Of one-of-a-kind memories. Of learning. Of growing. Of sharing with my children. Of teaching. 

I want to see all of God’s beauty, see everything He’s given us.

I don’t want to be dulled, out of it, living behind a hazy curtain, not in touch with my feelings, not able to process what I’m experiencing, not able to make memories.

The “feel-good-feeling” of alcohol ONLY lasts for the first drink. At the very most, two. And then it’s all a downhill path. Down, down, down–your energy levels, your mood, your ability to think. Before you know it, it’s bed time, and what you have to look forward to is the middle of the night hangover.

That neat whiskey you’re picturing in  your mind right now? Picture how you’ll feel about yourself come 3:00 AM if you drink it.

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