How the mighty have fallen. All my showing-off birthday shenanigans last week on top of not-properly-treated cystitis led to a little bit of an internal crisis for me last weekend. Now I can nearly laugh at myself doing rigorous pilates accompanied by a glass of champagne on Saturday night, thinking I had put my back out dancing on the table the night before, when actually my kidneys were being ravaged by e-coli. Oops.
So, I find myself five days later on the second course of kick-arse antibiotics with the potential promise of another week's worth landing on me on Monday. I think today I must finally be starting to feel a bit better as I have started pondering the absence of alcohol in my life. I haven't had a drink for 5 days. Five days. I'm not lying to you when I say that the last time I reckon that happened was 1993. I always drink, I love drinking, I drink too much and I'm not quite sure what to do now that I'm not drinking.
On the positive side of things I've decided that this definitely proves I'm not an alcoholic. I reckon the 'proper' alcoholics would have drunk anyway over the last few days. It really hasn't even crossed my mind until today. Cross my mind it has now however with the promise of a sober weekend ahead and a definite four days before I can drink again; possibly eleven.
Stu's out tonight, lucky bastard. Although, it's probably best as I'm a miserable MF at the moment. I welled up when he was telling me about the Mexican restaurant he's going to pre-gig and the Margaritas he was going to drink. Tact isn't his strongest point but still I think me crying over missed cocktails on a night out I wasn't even ever going on when I don't even drink Margaritas shows that I've got some issues.
I've just been interrogating Sam over a glass of water, (oh yes, no tea or coffee for me either), about what you are meant to do to entertain yourself when you don't drink. She claims only to drink once a week, (can't say I've ever noticed, I'm obviously always too pissed), but has definitely cut down while she has a broken arm so that she doesn't break the other one. Cinema or Bingo was all we could come up with, neither of which set me on fire with enthusiasm.
"I drink to make other people more interesting." - Ernest Hemingway. Possibly, I agree with him. I also tend to surround myself with fellow-boozers. I can only think of two people I know that are tee-total and they tend to bore the arse off me, (don't worry, they aren't blog readers.) Maybe that's just coincidence? I think drink makes a lot of things more interesting; certainly it makes sitting in on your own and watching tele less tedious...
Samantha, (sorry love), also suggested that if being off the booze was distressing me so much then that obviously showed I had an issue with it and that I should maybe look at that. I beg to differ. I'm proving it. I'm living the miserable sober life as a temporary emergency measure but the evening I'm properly better I have a date with a beautiful bottle of pink Lanson and a straw. See, if I was a proper alkie I wouldn't wait until the evening.
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