This should have been day 13, but I earned a bit of money on the 4th, bought some bourbon on the 5th, earned some more money on the 6th, then drank a lot from Tuesday the 6th until Thursday the 8th. There was no intention on Sunday. In fact, I should have stayed cool on Monday. So what happened? My mother stressed me out for a few hours while I was moving her new bed in and moving the old bed around and the little bed out. She never even said Thank You; but appeared absoulutely satisfied with all the work for her little fuckin house. I was so taken for granted, and treated like an idiot who could not do anything right. But she loves the new bedroom set-ups just fine.
These are the emotional circumstances that make people who are on that don't-want-to-drink, but just-made-to-feel-like-shit, go to the liquor store and say FUCK YOU and FUCK LIFE.
Why am I the asshole? Where is your respect for me? It makes you feel alone.
One important thing I learned about drinking and using any drug, and perhaps even any addiction, is that we all look for intamacy. In my case, and maybe you can or cannot apply this to you, drinking and getting a buzz is something that ONLY I FEEL. Even when I drink with a group of friends, my buzz is only my buzz. That is the kind of intamacy I am referring to. It's personal, it's mine, and it feels good.
Like an old lover that you never want to see again, liquor has that effect on me - we had a good time, but I don't ever want to see you again because you fuckin disgust me and I hate you.
On Tuesday, I was paid just a bit of cash to drive my friend to the airport. She was a rambling mess who got us lost and needed to "try shortcuts" and back-seat-drive like a total asshole.
I kept cool, dropped her off, then drove straight to the liquor store and bought some whiskey. I drove the car to a spot and got a blow job, then continued to drive afterward to Silver Lake, for I don't know what. I remember parking the car. But I couldn't remember where I left it. I am laughing right now because it is a stupid drunk story. The part about losing a new friend's Mini Cooper is fuckin hilarious.
But the other part is more important, so get over the humor. The Mini belonged to my friend's wife, so I had to get on a train and confront her about losing her car. She became frazzled, we called my friend who was already in Portland, and she chewed me out. After that call, the car's owner and I got drunk together.
The car is recovered. It was fine. It had a parking ticket. Thankfully, this part of the story ends well.
But shit, I really thought that I was going to blog daily about not drinking. I thought I would look good. But that's not real. This is real. It happened.
There is only, and really only, ONE thing that comicates my life. Today I am treating it like an ex-lover who I never want to see again. Because booze is like an intimate friend to me.It is like a person, like a relationship. I've been strong enough to get rid of painful exes before. This personification of alcohol makes me fear it and hate it. It makes me heartbroken by it, and smart to know that it will never satisfy me.
So today is day 5. I started a new job and I am very happy. I have not had a steady job that I could be happy in for 3 years now. This has not been easy. This is why I started drinking so recklessly out here in LA in the first place, but that's another story for next month when I talk about CHANGE.
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