Half a pint last night. I felt fine and slept great. Even had some humorous dreams.
But why, oh, why can I not part with that little, half-pint more than once or twice a week? What on earth am I gaining from it?
When I don’t have that little half-pint, nothing in my evening is any different. I may laugh a bit less when sober, but I still get to spend time with my DH and have a nice dinner together, watch Master Chef or whatever, play together with the cat for a while, then read for an hour or so before bed. How does vodka make THAT more enjoyable?
I have a laundry list of things I want to get done this weekend:
Renew library card.
Visit the hardware store to pick out paint colors for the new bathroom cabinet.
Drop off jewelry to be cleaned.
Get stuff for a nice dinner on Sunday night.
Etc. Etc. Etc.
But really…let’s see how little I manage to get done.
Damn, I really hate myself at times. And why isn’t that enough to get me out of my rut?