the
first time i quit drinking, in
2003, i made it seven months... until
offered a
free beer on an international flight and i said
yes, giddy as a teenager when it
hit. then another sober spell in
2016, another 7 month run until while
hosting
our annual absinthe party i decided to have just
one... a few thousand drinks
later, on august 30 2021, i woke up feeling just
done with it and it's been easy
ever since. until today. call it the 7 month
itch. i wonder why that is. but since
i wasn't flying or hosting a party it was easier
to skate past the sudden craving,
caught a nature buzz instead watching ducks
twerk in the arboretum, where we
rendezvous'd with jesse,
painting au plein air on a bench tucked
way up among
tall
trees. memory is slippery. maybe 7 months
is how long it takes to forget that
drinking was making me generally depressed. or
maybe there's something in me
that mistakes tranquility for stasis and seeks
to disrupt the status quo. shake the snowglobe.
stir the pot. upset the apple cart. muddy the
waters. open pandora's box. as a kid, i'd
organize my various collections to perfection,
then scatter them
again for the pleasure of rearranging according
to a new system, and likewise it's tempting to "derange
the senses." then
i remember that i tended to take things apart
one time too many, would never get around to
putting them back together...
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