Ok, so the trip to Seattle was awwwwwesome! Was I 100% awwwwwesome with not drinking? Well, no. Am I beating myself up over it? Well, no.
The first two days on the train were cake. Like, really, really easy. I could have had access to alcohol in the lounge car, but nope. Somehow I managed to stay entertained for TWO WHOLE DAYS reading and listening to music and watching a couple movies. Oh yeah, and talking with the BF. Of course.
On the third morning (Wednesday) we arrived in Seattle and spent the next two days with friends Mike and Julie. The two of them DO drink quite a bit. Like, I almost have to wonder if alcohol is a problem with either one of them, since they have a very impressive liquor cabinet and sooooooo much wine and champagne. For dinner that night I had a half a glass of champagne. I could have declined it, but I was like, “Ok. Let’s see what happens.” Dumb, dumb dumb dumb reasoning, I know. Anyway, I did have that half glass and that was fine. I didn’t even want any more after that. When we went to bed that night I laid there and reflected on it for a bit and decided I don’t even *want* to be a “normal drinker” because surprise, surprise…booze is only “fun” for me when I get shit-faced. The stuff doesn’t even taste good and it’s just empty calories and seems so pointless. So yay for that. And when I got up the next morning I saw that at some point the previous night between the two of them they split three bottles of wine. And Julie was hungover the next morning so she didn’t join us when we went to Pike Place Market (FUN! That place rocks.) and as much as I like Julie I was SO happy not to be in her hungover shoes.
So Thursday. Day at the Market, then back to the house for dinner and chilling. And no booze for me. YAS.
Friday morning we packed up and headed downtown to a hotel until Sunday morning. This is where things started getting kind of rocky for me. J was at the comic convention (NERDZZZZ) all day and I met up with Michelle for some Nordstrom therapy. But before I went to meet her, it was just me and the mini bar in the hotel room. It was raining and honestly, at that point I just wanted to curl up in the fluffy bed and watch home renovation shows on TV. I was initially very cranky because there was a hiccup when I tried to check in, so I was like, “Fuck it. I’ll just have one beer.” Even though before I decided to make that stupid decision I told myself “Lily, you’re tired and you’re cranky. THAT is why you want to drink.” But I did anyway. And one beer turned into two glasses of wine and a little bottle of gin. Gross. Anyway, my tolerance is still um…tolerant, so I wasn’t trashed or anything. Blah blah, shopping, spent too much money, then back to the hotel.
That evening we went to dinner at a brewery *eye roll* with Michelle and Brian where we each had a beer.
Saturday – more shopping, bummin’ around, and another small bottle of wine from the mini bar found its way into my stomach.
Sunday – brunch, walking, and then the flight back home. Had a glass of wine on the plane and that was it.
Sooooo…let’s see. Damage done = 7-8 drinks in three days. Not good, but I’m not horribly broken up over it. The worst thing for me is deciding to restart my sobriety counter. I still haven’t just yet, but I suppose after I get another week under my belt then I’ll consider it.
On the plus side, I knew that glass on the plane was going to be my last for a (hopefully) long, long time. Almost three days and I’m feeling fine.
So what did this trip tell me?
1.) I clearly have a drinking problem (lol. No kidding?). I snuck booze. And my god, I’m glad I was paying for the hotel room on my credit card because that dent I made in the mini-bar cost me an additional $75.
2.) I am NOT ready to be in drinking situations any time soon. I’m invited to a brunch on Sunday and I’m going to have to decline because this group of friends is a boozy group and I just rather not be tempted right now.
3.) Booze tastes NAST. One glass is pointless and everything past one glass will never be enough.
4.) Even with my Friday lapse, I didn’t have a hangover the next morning, so I’ve been hangover-free for three weeks today. THAT is super, super awesome.
All in all, not a perfect trip in regards to alcohol but it could have been way, way worse. I didn’t make an ass out of myself. I didn’t have to wake up in the morning with a pounding headache and hope I didn’t do or say anything stupid in a drunken haze.
It was an easy, seamless transition from vacation mode to ‘normal life’ mode.
So here’s to…three days, I suppose. I’ll take it!