The other day I broke my self-imposed rule to not be drunk (it seems to have settled at a 3 drink maximum) for the first time this year: on the average scale of things, not a bad accomplishment, but I am merciless as regards my self-imposed restrictions, I am not impressed. For example, I am, at the moment, 4 days behind on the song of the day project version 2: which is to say, I’m supposed to have written 1,461 songs for this project, but in fact as of this writing I have written only 1,457. I agonize over this shit. I’ve actually definitely got bigger fish to fry which is probably a significant part of the whole nonsense. Nothing like a specific, nonsensical, extremely rigid goal to distract you from the fact that the whole wide world is Crazy Town.
Anyway, tonight I broke my alcohol minimum, by one drink, purposely, consciously, deliberately. My lapse of the other day was not conscious, I didn’t even think about it, I just poured another and another, you know, and at some point the next drink was being poured by the last drink, if you catch my meaning. Good and glowing, I wrote a little homily I was scheduled to deliver on Good Friday, about the problem of pain and evil. This is a little embarrassing but then at best one person who actually heard the thing will read this (probably not even that, I get the impression that nobody is really reading this) and I can trust her discretion, right? You? Anyway. It turned out okay, I thought. And the next day came with its predictable results. Ugh.
Anyway. Tonight I broke my drink limit again, consciously, intentionally, by one: I’m a lightweight, after 4 months, I feel a little loopy. But it will pass. I actually don’t have any good reason for writing about it. Such is the nature of intoxication, which word means, by the way, “the ingestion of poison.” Take care y’all.
originally posted at spiritofsalt.com Apr 30, 2009 at 11:00 PM
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