This morning, Susan interrupted my Zoom to give me an update on the day. “…and Eli’s getting together with a friend this afternoon.” Grrr. I wanted us to go bike riding in the woods later on. It said so right on the meeting agenda: 1:30 – go bike riding in your local forest. Over the … Continue reading Summit
Sobriety
Beyond the Bottom
I still check the news twenty time a day. When I finish a task at work, a breaking-point. After a run. When I wake up, when I go to bed. When I head off to the loo. Sometimes I go to the bathroom simply to read the news. No prying eyes, no one counting my … Continue reading Beyond the Bottom
Headaches
Like a vice tightening on the back of my head. That’s how I describe my headaches. Which headaches? All of them. I get my fair share, maybe a little more. Often enough to pay close attention to them. I know the causes. I know how to fix them. When I was a drinker—not the moderate … Continue reading Headaches
A Safe Ending
Sophie stayed out past curfew. Not the curfew Susan and I set—we didn’t set one—but the curfew set by the state of Pennsylvania: seventeen-year-old drivers are banned from the road by eleven. Sophie’s never had a parental curfew; she’s never stayed out unreasonably late, and she’s never done anything to make us doubt her judgement. … Continue reading A Safe Ending
My Viral Moment
Do you care about your online statistics? I do, a lot. But possibly, you don’t. If that’s true, stop reading now. You’re going to find this post ridiculous. From time to time, I read posts from bloggers who say their blog stats don’t matter. They don’t care about page views, likes, follows or shares. They … Continue reading My Viral Moment
My Hungover Weekend
Once upon a time, I spent my weekends sick. Sick during the days, but not at night. The nights I spent drunk. My mornings started early. Saturday and Sunday, eight o’clock, nine o’clock. Maybe not early by today’s standards—I’m up at five each day during the week—but eight A.M. is early when you get to … Continue reading My Hungover Weekend
Blogging, Disabilities & Other Stuff
“People are idiots.” That’s my standard response when a blogger writes about being mistreated because of their disability. I use that phrase all the time—with all the disabled bloggers I follow. You might wonder why I read so many blogs about disability. It’s a fair question. It abuts a question that Susan asks me all … Continue reading Blogging, Disabilities & Other Stuff
The Brickskeller
On January 17, 1991, the United States Navy bombed the holy-hell out of Iraq. For the first time in eighteen years, the U.S. was at war. My response? I went out drinking. DCs premier beer-bar, the Brickskeller, hosted a tasting of Bell’s Third Coast Beer that night. As I primped for my evening out, the … Continue reading The Brickskeller
Regrets, I’ve had a few
Everyone’s tired. Everyone’s grumpy. We're all exhausted. We pulled in last night at 9:30 after our whirlwind tour of North Carolina colleges. We live in Pennsylvania. It’s practically a southern state compared to New England states like New Hampshire or Vermont, but our winter suits none of us. Especially Sophie. She’s a high school junior, … Continue reading Regrets, I’ve had a few
WordPress, Facebook, Twitter
I’ve got this routine. WordPress, Facebook, Twitter. I do this slowly, wanting to savor the alerts. The WordPress red dot, the numbers in the Facebook and Twitter bells. These are my social media. No Instagram, that’s where my kids hang out. I don’t want to crash their party. I do it again. WordPress, Facebook, Twitter. … Continue reading WordPress, Facebook, Twitter
Shades of Gray
I recently changed jobs. I now work at a library—the finance manager: budgeting, analysis, accounting. My office, with it’s dark-stained wooden doors and frosted transom windows, is massive: 14’ x 14’ x 14’. It’s true, my office ceiling is fourteen feet high. Susan says I suffer from TMF—that’s too much furniture: three desks, five filing … Continue reading Shades of Gray
Dry. Part 2.
Dry. It really sucks. Dry, meaning alcohol free, it’s miserable. At least it is for me. Lots of us (dry people) use the euphemism sober. It sounds adult, more mature. I don’t call myself sober because of what it implies, which is: not drunk. It’s not that I’m not not drunk, it’s just that before, … Continue reading Dry. Part 2.
Blackouts
Like everyone else, I’m writing about the Kavanaugh hearing. But because I’m self-centered, I’m really writing about myself. I’ve barely paid attention to this news cycle. I don’t have cable TV. I never watch videos on news websites, and I only spend a few minutes each day listening to the radio. Almost everything I know … Continue reading Blackouts
(Flash) Natural order of things
Me, in his office: defensive, insecure. Him behind his desk: Disapproving, judgmental. “You’ll quit drinking,” he says. Not a suggestion, not a request. A declaration. An intervention. “I’m only here for my meds, my antidepressants.” Medication management, no prescription without a discussion. Power of suggestion? Voodoo? A good read of character? Yes, he was right. … Continue reading (Flash) Natural order of things
I miss…
Intellectual bathroom graffiti: I F*@KED YOUR MOTHER! Directly beneath this gem, in a different pen, a different hand: GO HOME DAD, YOU”RE DRUNK! I’d like to stop right there. A flash-post. Call it done. Flash what? Not fiction. This one is real. On the bathroom wall of the Tune Inn, circa 1986. Every time I … Continue reading I miss…
The Hard Days
I had my last drink almost eleven months ago; I quit somewhere in the middle of last January. But I’m not sure exactly when. And yes, it’s ridiculous that I don’t know the date. I thought I did, but two or three weeks after I quit, I couldn’t remember if it was two or three … Continue reading The Hard Days
Endurance, tattoos and pain
Any age ending in “three” is destined to be an afterthought. A year ago I turned fifty-three. Too old for my early-fifties. Too young for my mid-fifties. I entered fifty-three with zero expectations. Just another year of life. A way-station on my journey to fifty-five, or to sixty. When I was in my twenties, I was … Continue reading Endurance, tattoos and pain
Building an Embassy
Three years of blogging, hundreds of stories, hundreds of thousands of words, but I’ve only mentioned Kiera once. This wasn’t intentional; she just never came up. I didn’t even notice this omission until I started assembling my book. Once I realize that she was nowhere to be found, I was shocked that I could write … Continue reading Building an Embassy
My Intervention(s)
This year I gave up drinking. I quit my lifelong addition. Or my adult life addition—it didn’t really start until I was fourteen. And it didn’t gain any consistency until I was off in college at seventeen. For twenty years I was a heavy drinker—a drinker focused on getting drunk. But as I settled down … Continue reading My Intervention(s)
Dry
Christ, I feel like shit. My teeth hurt. They feel rattled, loose. Like I've been punched in the jaw – more than once. I'm grinding so hard, my tooth-alignment is actually changing. My bite is crooked. My head aches; My neck is stiff; I'm so agitated, it's hard to take a deep breath. A few … Continue reading Dry
