a few nights ago I got quite drunk with O. we were going to have a nightcap and hit the sack early, b/c we were both stressed out. and then as we were finishing that drink, my house guest adam walked in, and we poured another round. then more. then more. i think we did half a bottle of whiskey.
i haven’t drank like that in over a year for sure. i cut alcohol out once i started to get anxious pre-surgeries. and it just lost its appeal. since then it has hurt my mouth too much to drink, and wine has made me feel terrible, even when i have just a sip. but i have discovered that if i drink straight bourbon my mouth is numb within a couple of sips, and after that i can’t *feel* the burn.
so we slept late the next morning. we were going to head upstate early, but that didn’t happen. O rolled over and said “oh, i’m hungover” and i said “yeah me too” and sprung out of bed and said “but i feel like shit every morning, so i’m used to it!” I laughed, and old-man-shuffle-walked to the bathroom (like I do every morning), took my morning tylenol and advil. and made us breakfast.
O couldn’t get out of bed for an hour or so, she was so hungover. i, on the other hand, felt like it was just another day. same old same old.
i could choose to learn two lessons from this:
1. i really do feel really bad every day
2. i might as well drink every night
i’m not sure which is the better lesson