Happy Hour

I went to a happy hour last night. Not the best place for a person in recovery, right? But I had fun. I went there to meet other people that go to the festivals I enjoy. I planned to try to ask around if anyone knew of any sober festival goers, but I got wrapped up in conversations about projects and volunteering. I really enjoyed myself. I had a group of people whom with I shared a different experiences outside of parties.

This particular place had a water cooler next to the bar. I could help myself to as much water as I wanted rather than having to ask the bartender and wait. They had a trivia night going on in the main room and I started remembering how much I loved bar trivia night. Would I now kick ass at bar trivia against drunk people?

I spent most of my time there talking with one woman. I got there 2 hours after the happy hour started and she was obviously drunk. I now find it hard to have conversations with drunk people but it also reminds me of what I used to be like. I spoke with a few other people. I was proud that I was meeting people without liquor lubrication.

I am not going to make happy hour a common evening. This one had a specific theme. I don’t think I could have handle it three to six months ago without caving in and getting a beer. But it was a “happy hour” because I definitely left there happy.

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Mistake 177- I went to a “white party”. It was not a race thing.  It meant everyone had to wear white. I had a flowing white skirt, white tank top, and white blouse. I was drinking before the party and drinking lots at the party. I went out to dinner with friends after the white party. They said I kept swaying my head. They thought I was going to pass out in my food.

A guy who knew my friends offered to give me a ride home.  But I was too drunk to give him directions. I just moved there and could not remember the address. My driver’s license did not have my new address because I was living there temporarily.  So he drove me to his place with plans to drive me to my car in the morning.  But once at his place,  I started to make the moves on him. I ended up in his bed. I do not remember the night and had to ask him his name the next day.

We started dating. A month later,  we turned it into an exclusive relationship. Then it ended a month later.  I think I was always self-conscious of the way we met. But he had his own emotional issues.

Hungry Like A Wolfie

I was supposed to celebrate 80 days of sobriety by going to a New Wave party with a Duran Duran theme. I did not go. I was planning to dress as a wolf for the party. But I decided I did not want to take the chance. I did not know anyone else going besides the DJs. They would be too busy to socialize much. I did not want to be in a bar without friends with whom to hang out and dance. I would feel lonely. I would want a bottle of beer to stand with and make me feel at ease.

I had a good friend post on Facebook that he was in a nearby city. I wanted to see a play in the city. We agreed to meet up after the show.

I picked up a ticket for the show and had three hours to kill. I have proven already I could be in this city and not want a drink. I thought avoiding temptation would be easier by now. But last night, it felt different.

This time, those Happy Hour signs seemed to jump out on the sidewalk. They wanted to trip me. I was being watched by all the patrons on the patios with their wine glasses and their eyes beckoned me to join. “Just one glass”. It would be nice to have a glass and read my book. The desire was a ghost haunting me as I walked down the street. It whispered in my ears to give up this silly sobriety thing.

I think being alone caused the craving. Or because it was nice weather. Or my mind was weak. It made me sad. I wanted it exorcised. I thought I was having an easy time with not drinking. That damn, fucking Wolfie found me!

I dodged the bars. I went for a manicure/pedicure instead. Then I went for dinner at an Indonesian place. I ordered ginger tea. The two women at the table next to me kept ordering glasses of wine. Three each by the time I finished my meal. They should have got a bottle instead.

An non-alcoholic would not count how many glasses of wine strangers had.

After the play, my friend was outside waiting. We found a cafe for tea. We haven’t seen each other since October. We had a lot of catching up to do. A couple weeks ago, I told him I quit drinking. He told me he did also. He did it to be healthier. He is vegan. He high-fived me when I told it has been 80 days for me.

We compared public reactions to both veganism and alcoholism. He said how hard it is to find someone to date that supports his lifestyle. He said people seem to get offended by his eating habits. People tell him it is not healthy. I feel that is like people trying to tell me I do not have a problem. His diet and my abstaining should not affect other people. Why are people bothered by it?

I confessed how hard the afternoon was. It has seemed easy most of the past 2 1/2 months. He said it will get easier. I am not sure it will. It sucks. That Wolfie. That ghost. That desire. She will always be there. I just have to learn to handle that bitch.

I think after I am done in my current location and move, I am gonna seek professional help. I want to find a therapist. The thought of drinking again scares me the shit out of me.

Mistake # 81- I used to be a regular at the New Wave night when I lived in that city. I am sure I did many stupid things. But I remember one night in particular: I introduced myself to a cute guy. He already knew my name. He said “um, yea, we met at the last New Wave night. We made out in that corner.” I was so embarrassed. I ignored him the rest of the night and avoided him any other time I saw him. I do not want that embarrassment or fear anymore!

Reinventing self

I started my new job today. Well, I restarted it after my first day was delayed due to mixed up paperwork. The day went well and I got along well with all my new coworkers. I realized, I could be a whole new person here. I could be someone to them that NEVER drank. I could create an image of a “good girl.”

Years ago, I learned my lesson of not mixing my social and work lives. I tried to avoid being a victim of workplace gossip. I used to say it was because I was not judgemental like the uptight staff. Actually, I was worried about them judging me and my drinking.

Before learning to separate business and pleasure, I used to go to happy hour after a shift with coworkers. At 8am. We worked nights. We knew of the two breakfast places that had happy hour from 7am to 9am. Bloody marys, screwdrivers, and other breakfast juices with booze. Two for the price of one. It was a great deal and great way to blow of steam after a stressful night of work.

I will have to developed other ways to bond.

Mistake # 21: A couple years ago, I went out with two young women from work. We were all new to the area and job. We all met up at my place. We took a taxi to some local bars. A guy I slightly knew texted me. Even though I was not interested in him, I invited him to join us. The night turned into the four of us drinking and talking and having fun. I think.

I woke up the next day in my bed wearing only my shirt and underwear. I was hungover and not remembering most of the night. The two women from work slept in my living room. When I asked what happened, they did not believe I could not recall what I did.  They said I was making out with the guy that joined us. Then he tried to come home with us but they refused to let him. They kept saying “I can’t believe you don’t remember any of this?” Blackouts were a foreign concept to them. When I got to my apartment, I stripped off my jeans as soon as I got in the door without closing it. Then I stumbled to my bedroom and passed out. They had to lock up my place.

I am not sure if they told anyone at work about my behaviour. They barely talked to me anymore. All three of us were temporary employees and went our separate ways after a few months. Being a temporary employee made reinventing myself easy.