A few hours ago, I started drinking again. I talked about it with my forever person first, because I promised I would. A few days ago, a good old friend offered me a job. He’s got influence in hiring. It was perfect. Except it was a government contract with the”Department of War”, so required a drug test. I’m a regular user of THC in NYS, where it is legal to be. But not in Trump’s whacky hypocritical administration. I can...
Earlier this week, I was drinking. Yes, back to drinking. When I say drinking, I mean starting around nine or ten with a double vodka in cranberry juice and proceeding likewise throughout the day. Of course, when the woman returned from work around 6PM, nothing had changed from my previous runs with drinking. I was still a resentful, insecure child to her. So, instead of quitting, I thought I’d experiment. If I quit around 1PM, I’ll be alone until the...
Six months. 31.5 times six. 93 days? I’m not particularly mathematically adept at this time. Nevertheless and irregardless– off the wagon. First, it was the party for a friend of my lover. Strong through an hour, maybe two. Then anxious. Then was asked to get a drink for her. Hers were weak. I nod and smile. To the bar. Drop a twenty. “Double vodka.” It was downhill from there. Down into “Proud Mary in the...
For an “alcoholic”, there is only one problem– alcohol. At that first AA meeting, when I raised my hand and said, “I’m Quinn and I’m an alcoholic”, I bargained with myself that it was some sort of truth. Major regrettable events had transpired which, without alcohol, would have been mere forgettable incidents. I have problems associated with alcohol, like a racist has problems associated with race. So, I’m an alcoholic, right? No, I’m not– and I won’t call myself that again. I’ve...
Second night at AA. I didn’t talk much this time beyond the obligatory “I’m Quinn and I’m an alcoholic”, “Hi, Bill”, “Thank you, Bill.” I gave my number to a good looking guy, my age or (probably) younger. I am regretting this. It brings on the kind of anxiety I had when the ex-wife and I gave our number to a “friendly” waiter at Raj Mahal who turned out to be an Amway drone. That’s what AA reminds me of– a cult. Not in...
“My name is Quinn and I’m an … alcoholic.” Most of those present seemed to assume the pause before the term was because I was loathe to admit such a condition, but it was only that I wasn’t sure of the definition and did not want to misrepresent myself. I was able to explain this later, in a lengthy rant where I used the terms “modern drunkard” and “high-functioning sociopath” and essentially said “This is not going to work– for me.” Kinda brought...
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