Lately, I’ve had a lot of free time on my hands. Both of my jobs have slowedddd waaaayyyyy dowwwnnn. As in, I only worked a total of 14 hours this week. This left too much time to think. Trust me when I say I didn’t need any more time to do that. I don’t need to think about the money I’m not making. I’m barely getting by with two jobs and donating plasma twice a week. The few people who know how little money I make are in complete shock that I’m doing so well. I own my home, as much as anyone does, my car is paid for and I have no debt other than my house. I have one daughter still at home that I share custody of, one week on one week off. I made $16,000 last year before deductions. I’m an independent contractor so I have to pay social security and self employment taxes when I file my taxes. I’m not complaining, I’m quite mystified myself that things are a good as they are. Good thing I stopped drinking away a couple hundred dollars a month.
Both of my jobs are wonderful and one is what I feel I was put here to do. I work for my family running their business which allows me to choose my hours. It’s a creative job that I wouldn’t give up for any other and it’s paying the bills but barely. I don’t know how I got off on this tangent other than hopefully I’ll look back at my situation and laugh at the good old days.
Anyway, I don’t normally watch much TV and now I know why. Every movie seems to have a scene or several revolving around booze. People either having a great time with friends or hitting the bottle due to sorrow, loneliness or boredom. Sounds like life, eh? At 132 days sober, I should be over the “poor me, I can never drink again” feelings, shouldn’t I?
Sometimes it’s a thought that brings on the craving to drink. I can’t call it a craving, it’s more of an idea. What I’ve noticed lately is these thoughts can come from a familiar smell or the way the light streams through the window. Last weekend, as the boyfriend and I visited his friend of 30 years (and best drinking buddy besides myself), I saw a gleaming tall boy (25 ounce beer) sitting on a coaster in front of the window with the sun shining on it like a spotlight. I couldn’t imagine that I was that taken by something so trivial at this stage of the game. The funny part is that I actually hated beer until the last year when I became less choosy about what my poison would be. Anyway, I felt a pang of regret that I’d never be able to have another beer in the beautiful sunlight. It was only for a moment but here I am a week later writing about it.
I breezed through the first few months and now it seems harder. Maybe that’s because I’ve put myself into situations that I had avoided. I can’t steer clear of life forever just because it makes me feel like I want to drink.
The store is calling my name. I believe I’ll treat myself to some sparkling water. That seems to make me feel like I’m not missing so much on a Friday night.
Vodka Goggles 