A Way to End 'Sticky and Tricky'?
I think I need to get drunk. And write. I bet you didn't see that one coming, did you? I used to do it all the time. I'd sit down to write with my drink of choice at the time - most often Bacardi and Diet Coke or Sweet Tea Vodka and Diet Sweet Tea - and write and drink and write and drink. I can't say I produced a lot of masterpieces like that (truthfully, I produced a lot that my mom told me I needed to delete the next day), but I did produce. Lately The Words have been a little sticky and tricky; writing has been painful and procrastination plenitful. This has got me thinking about getting drunk. It might be just what I need.
I quit drinking awhile back. By 'quit' I mean 'cut way, way back'. I may have a drink or two when I go out, stopping far short of drunk, but I don't drink at home. I had to set some easy limits and drinking at home was the lowest hanging fruit. It has nothing to do with not wanting to drink alone or worrying about drinking too often to excess. It's just that if it's here, I'll drink. It's that simple. Maybe not to the point of drunkenness (which seems to get easier and easier), but I know me and I know I'd have a drink every night.
Not that having a drink every night is a bad thing. My parents did it for years. And never to excess. Dad would come home and like clockwork, they would have two drinks before dinner. In fact, my father (at the age of 84) still has 'cocktail hour' every evening at 5:00. It's not a bad pattern, but it's not what I want to do. Oh, I do it when I'm visiting; Dad always has good rum waiting for me. Vacation is one thing. Life is another.
It's just easier if I say I'm not drinking. I'm weight and fitness conscious and drinking doesn't help either. And, if I by chance drink too much, my hangovers can be excruciating. The last thing I want to do is spend one of precious days off puking my guts up and laying in bed praying that my head stops pounding. I'm over that part of drinking. Completely.
But still... Lately, I've been tempted. I used to love to drink and write. I looked forward to it. It was my favorite way to spend an evening alone. It didn't matter if I had anything to write about when I sat down. After a couple drinks, I always found I had plenty to say. For better or worse. The Words didn't necessarily come out better, but they came.
I have to do something to end this drought, plus I could really use a night alone. This is why I'm thinking that I may stop and get a small bottle of something after work tomorrow. Highlight the word 'small'. I don't need to finish it in one sitting, but I don't want to get any habits started either. If I buy a big bottle, it'll be here and I'll be tempted even when I'm not planning a night of writing.
It could be perfect - get off at 6:00 (after a ten hour day), stop at any of the many liquor stores I pass (including a Specs, the Disneyland of liquor stores), buy a small bottle of Sailor Jerry and a two liter of Diet Coke, come home, make a drink, make dinner, eat, and sit down to write. I know I must have a lot to say because I haven't been saying much lately. Who knows? I may find myself drinking and writing until the wee hours. I'm off Friday so I can risk a late bed time and little drunkenness.
Yes. I think it's a plan. I need to cut loose and let The Words have their way with me. Something has been holding me back and I'm dead certain that a few well-placed rum drinks will kill it. Look out, World, there's no telling what I may write...and post so stay tuned.
I quit drinking awhile back. By 'quit' I mean 'cut way, way back'. I may have a drink or two when I go out, stopping far short of drunk, but I don't drink at home. I had to set some easy limits and drinking at home was the lowest hanging fruit. It has nothing to do with not wanting to drink alone or worrying about drinking too often to excess. It's just that if it's here, I'll drink. It's that simple. Maybe not to the point of drunkenness (which seems to get easier and easier), but I know me and I know I'd have a drink every night.
Not that having a drink every night is a bad thing. My parents did it for years. And never to excess. Dad would come home and like clockwork, they would have two drinks before dinner. In fact, my father (at the age of 84) still has 'cocktail hour' every evening at 5:00. It's not a bad pattern, but it's not what I want to do. Oh, I do it when I'm visiting; Dad always has good rum waiting for me. Vacation is one thing. Life is another.
It's just easier if I say I'm not drinking. I'm weight and fitness conscious and drinking doesn't help either. And, if I by chance drink too much, my hangovers can be excruciating. The last thing I want to do is spend one of precious days off puking my guts up and laying in bed praying that my head stops pounding. I'm over that part of drinking. Completely.
But still... Lately, I've been tempted. I used to love to drink and write. I looked forward to it. It was my favorite way to spend an evening alone. It didn't matter if I had anything to write about when I sat down. After a couple drinks, I always found I had plenty to say. For better or worse. The Words didn't necessarily come out better, but they came.
I have to do something to end this drought, plus I could really use a night alone. This is why I'm thinking that I may stop and get a small bottle of something after work tomorrow. Highlight the word 'small'. I don't need to finish it in one sitting, but I don't want to get any habits started either. If I buy a big bottle, it'll be here and I'll be tempted even when I'm not planning a night of writing.
It could be perfect - get off at 6:00 (after a ten hour day), stop at any of the many liquor stores I pass (including a Specs, the Disneyland of liquor stores), buy a small bottle of Sailor Jerry and a two liter of Diet Coke, come home, make a drink, make dinner, eat, and sit down to write. I know I must have a lot to say because I haven't been saying much lately. Who knows? I may find myself drinking and writing until the wee hours. I'm off Friday so I can risk a late bed time and little drunkenness.
Yes. I think it's a plan. I need to cut loose and let The Words have their way with me. Something has been holding me back and I'm dead certain that a few well-placed rum drinks will kill it. Look out, World, there's no telling what I may write...and post so stay tuned.
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