Last Weekend

So this will be my last weekend of not drinking. Hmmm. Doesn’t feel very dramatic really. This whole month has almost been a let down actually. No alcohol was far easier than I’d have thought. I’ve had not even a handful of knock-me-down insights & realisations.

I have definitely missed my wine over a meal. On those quieter nights.

And one evening out in Melville just felt like it required cheap vodka and tequila to be thrown about. As though madness needed to be sought in that suburb and the only way would be through a haze. So we left the suburb and went to a jolly ol’ pub and had a good ‘virgin’ one with foreigners.

But otherwise….and I definitely stared into the darkness of the abyss on this one, like going to the Colony on a Saturday night… alcohol or not, I had a good time. I danced like a fool. I bought the bar dry of its bottled water. I talked up storms. People were stunned to hear I was 100% sobered. I crawled into bed at silly hours. The action was sadly lacking, but that has rarely really been alcohol related, unless I am on a binge.

Apparently my personality changed little to not at all. That is always good to know… that you and your world are not hitched to a chemical.

Ok. Very honestly there was one moment of pure anger, irritation, rage, on a quiet week night, that made me want to go to a bar and drink it numb. Drag a mate out on any excuse. And just begin pinting it. We’d have therapeutic convos and laughs. And maybe if I could get pissed enough, I’d snog some most random of random men, and subconsciously watch if that led to me waking up in a bed some random where and try to place the curtains.

So it was really great to have this rule behind me where I did not have an option. I had to sit in the rage. ….or rather, I just drove a little faster down the Nicol.

On a completely different note – wow, but do I owe the William Nicol a stupid amount of cash. Since when did they start placing Cape Town Traffic Cops on that road!?! That is just how pedantic they suddenly are.

I am slightly nervous when I no longer have such definite excuses about how I imbibe. When my subconscious wants to go crazy, it just does. And it is a stubborn bitch. Fuck this. Fuck you. Fuck the system. Fuck The Man. Fuck it. And now could you just fuck me.

How does one reason with that?

I guess, to recognise it. Where it comes from. Why she reared her angry head. And to let her rant herself exhausted before daring to suip.

I know that from now on I do want my first drink of an evening to be non-alcoholic. You always arrive somewhere with your head going everywhere and just order anything randomly. Preferably strong cause you (I?) think it will calm you and settle your mind. I have realised that it is rather just time that settles me. And then I can decide properly where I want things to lead….one bottle of wine between the mates, or just a quick glass type of night.

I do not want hangovers!! I think I’d prefer a minimal amount of shots in a night, with much water, rather than longer drinks.

I do not want to drive totalled out of my reasoning and reactions. I do not want to be endangering my mates anymore. Or complete strangers.

Week nights are only for wine over dinners. Wine and champs with food. Only.

A gorgeous mate last night told me, at the bar counter, that I definitely haven’t changed, but it’d be nice to see me having that one glass of champagne in an evening.

Ooo baby, definitely. Of all the things that have been lacking, Bring back the bubbles!