Thick_as_a_Planck
Bluelighter
I think I'm slipping into alcoholism... or maybe I'm already there.
I don't drink a massive amount. Compared to some people here my problem is small, I admit. But I feel like it could start going downhill very soon. It's already affecting my social and work life, no question. But I can't stop. I just. Can't. Stop.
I drink beer, normally. I buy it in small bottles because I feel like that makes me not an alcoholic. But the other day while shopping, for the first time, I decided to skip the beer and get a litre of vodka. I stood in the alcohol aisle totting it up... A bottle of beer, two units, one euro thirty. Or the vodka, 34 units, eight euros. There at that moment it seemed like a logical, well thought out plan - saving money and less bloatiness. But what the fuck kind of worked out plan is that anyway? How logical is it to buy a bottle of vodka and drink it, alone, while watching House limp around and insult people?
I don't remember the end of the bottle. But the next night, after a staggeringly difficult and awkward day at work, in which I was secreting alcohol from every pore, I got home and lay down in bed. There next to me was a third of a tube of pringles left from the night before. (Rosemary and Thyme flavour, they have strange varieties here in Italy). I sat slowly munching away, the taste degraded by my hungover mouth. Finally I came to the dregs of the tube and up ended it, letting the pieces slide into my mouth. After a few seconds of chewing there was suddenly the most awful, grinding, grating, tearing sound/sensation in my mouth. The pain and blood arrived a few seconds later.
And I remembered. I'd broken a glass the night before. Accidentally or in a fit of drink induced fuck-it-all blase, I don't know. But during the drunken clean up (which was not a great success, I've been finding shards for weeks now) I had decided to put one fairly largish piece of glass into the pringles tube. A joke for my boring, sensible, sober self.
And just what the fuck is up with that?
I don't drink a massive amount. Compared to some people here my problem is small, I admit. But I feel like it could start going downhill very soon. It's already affecting my social and work life, no question. But I can't stop. I just. Can't. Stop.
I drink beer, normally. I buy it in small bottles because I feel like that makes me not an alcoholic. But the other day while shopping, for the first time, I decided to skip the beer and get a litre of vodka. I stood in the alcohol aisle totting it up... A bottle of beer, two units, one euro thirty. Or the vodka, 34 units, eight euros. There at that moment it seemed like a logical, well thought out plan - saving money and less bloatiness. But what the fuck kind of worked out plan is that anyway? How logical is it to buy a bottle of vodka and drink it, alone, while watching House limp around and insult people?
I don't remember the end of the bottle. But the next night, after a staggeringly difficult and awkward day at work, in which I was secreting alcohol from every pore, I got home and lay down in bed. There next to me was a third of a tube of pringles left from the night before. (Rosemary and Thyme flavour, they have strange varieties here in Italy). I sat slowly munching away, the taste degraded by my hungover mouth. Finally I came to the dregs of the tube and up ended it, letting the pieces slide into my mouth. After a few seconds of chewing there was suddenly the most awful, grinding, grating, tearing sound/sensation in my mouth. The pain and blood arrived a few seconds later.
And I remembered. I'd broken a glass the night before. Accidentally or in a fit of drink induced fuck-it-all blase, I don't know. But during the drunken clean up (which was not a great success, I've been finding shards for weeks now) I had decided to put one fairly largish piece of glass into the pringles tube. A joke for my boring, sensible, sober self.
And just what the fuck is up with that?