The Booze. Yeah. Or, recently, nah. I’ve been alcohol free for about a month now. It’s the longest time I’ve been without regular feeds of booze for fifteen years. And back then I’d only stopped because I had an eating disorder and was fixated on the gym. I had the body of Brad Pitt in the movie ‘Snatch’. My face remained the same though, so I fucked my way out of the eating disorder with a younger woman, got divorced from my wife, and put all the weight back on. Such is life. Now my hundred-unit-a-week boozathon has stopped again.
But this time it’s different. I don’t have an eating disorder at the moment, and I’m more than happy in my relationship with the most empathetic and emotionally sophisticated woman I’ve ever met.
But I’m sippin on an ole brew right now. First drink at home in all those weeks. Why? Is it the weather? The gardening I’ve done today: shifting leaves and cutting roses, and avoiding heaps of dog shit outside the front of my house? Was it the sad conversation with my eight-five year old neighbour who misses her husband so much she can’t not talk about him, ever? Not that I mind our chats. I like her and her quirky ways. She’s the least threatening person I know – which I why I respect her, according to my Psychologist. She’ll never attack me, or make me feel sad. Good old Margaret and her stories of eighty years on the Hill where we live. Today a hawk sat on a rooftop and watched us talk. Her husband maybe came back with even more raptor features than I thought he had in life.
But, to the booze. Why now?
OK, I think it’s because I want to eek out the last few minutes of daylight and I desperately want the Winter to end. I’m toasting the prospect of Spring. Yeah…that’s it. Music is on, the keyboard is hammering, and the view outside my window to the nature reserve is getting dusky now. There are many ways to feel ok. This is just one of them. One more sip. Just tippin a wink.