Feb 2019 14

Day 68

Posted In Blog,The world

Achievement unlocked.

So I go into a bar last night (Should I have been with a Priest and Rabbi?) and it finally happened. I give off the energy of a non-drinker.

Went to meet a friend for a hang and a beverage and as I entered, the waitstaff approached me, responding to my energy of someone who clearly does not drink alcohol. Someone living in the moment with clarity, courage, and accountability to oneself…

HER: Are you here picking up for Uber Eats?

I have crossed over, everyone.

Going looking for one of those beaded driver’s car seat covers today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feb 2019 11

Monday

Posted In Blog,The world

 

 

 

Sometimes it just takes seeing one co-worker filling his ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug, proudly and without any irony or self-consciousness whatsoever, to make your day.

 

 

 

 

 

Feb 2019 10

I woke up with this strange premonition to call my dad this morning. When your father is 90 years old (but looks 70, and acts 18), you listen to the universe when it says to contact him. He answered the phone – yay.

After some small talk about the weather, etc.

DAD: I went over to The Bay yesterday to look for some pants.

ME: Oh, that’s good you got out.

DAD: I don’t know how these young people do this with their slim fashion shit.

ME: What do you mean?

DAD: All this skinny pants ball-pinching stuff. It’s terrible.

ME: Did you try any on?

DAD: No. I just know it’s not my thing. One guy in my building says he has to go to a tailor. That’s the thing about getting old, Andrew. You don’t like any of the fashion. You all can keep your ball-crushing pants.

Sometimes I feel I am in tune with the universe. And other times, I just wonder what it is trying to tell me. ‘Call your dad. He wants to talk about fashion and testicles.’

 

 

Feb 2019 06

Been learning this one on the bass. Today, I want to be in The Clash. Stand back.

 

Well I’m running, police on my back
I’ve been hiding, police on my back
There was a shooting, police on my back
And the victim well he won’t come back

I been running Monday Tuesday Wednesday
Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday
Runnin Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Saturday Sunday
What have I done?
What have I done?

Yes, I’m running down the railway track
Could you help me? Police on my back
They will catch me if I dare drop back
Won’t you give me all the speed I lack

I been running Monday Tuesday Wednesday
Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday
Runnin Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Saturday Sunday
What have I done?
What have I done?

I’m running
I’m running
Running

I’m running down the railway track
Could you help me? Police on my back
They will catch me if I dare drop back
Won’t you help me find the speed I lack

I been running Monday Tuesday Wednesday
Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday
Runnin Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Saturday Sunday

What have I done?
What have I done?

Cos I’m running
Hiding
Running
Hiding

I’m running down the railway track
Could you help me? Police on my back
They will catch me if I dare drop back
They will kill me for the speed I lack

I’ve been running
I’ve been running

LYRICS: Eddy Grant

Feb 2019 06

Some middle-of-the night words on 60 days without alcohol in case you’ve extended your ‘Dry January’ and want to know what you’re in for, or just want to check in for your office betting pool that Andrew is drinking again.

I was promised rainbows shooting out of my eyes, a feeling of unconditional love for all living things, and levitation powers.

These haven’t happened yet.

On my 60th day without alcohol, I have not become Gandhi, George Harrison, or even your average Labrador Retriever. Instead, I tend to be irritable. Very.

Cases in point – in the last few days I have wanted to punch the following people in the face: ahem… First up, someone who offered me a job – you know who you are, you dick. Number two candidate for a mouthful of teeth – a man on the streetcar who had the audacity to sit next to me. Dude, why wedge in between me and this other guy in the back when there’s a perfectly good aisle seat right over there? I had my book and a pen out. I’m writing, goddamn it. I need space. I’m an artist!!! And number three, my sister for suggesting I visit Japan to get in touch with my heritage. This was a wanting to punch her in the face by proxy by the way, because it came up in a phone conversation with my dad. It’s like the punch had to travel through the phone, into the magic of digital technology of becoming ones and zeros, then reform on the other end and then go through my dad and into his memory of my sister saying it about me and then punching her in the face.

Now on one hand, these could be signs that I’m becoming unhinged. However, it is quite possible these are really positive signs. It means after 60 days of not knowing what is going on, the real me is showing up again.

Yes! I wanted to punch people in the face again. And not because I’m missing alcohol. Just because I’m usually kind of an asshole. This could be progress, people.

The real you has a tendency to show up eventually, I’ve been told. Hello asshole. Also, in the above three examples, I did not suffer silently or punch anyone – I said ‘No, I don’t want the job’, I moved seats, and I told my dad that my sister can go fuck off. Yay.

A friend asked what is the biggest change I’ve felt from not drinking for 60 days. And obviously I wish I could say it’s been some greater understanding of myself, or better relationships, more productivity, or even better health. I’m not sure about those things yet. I’m not sure I’ve even felt the financial windfall yet of not spending money in bars every week. I’m still growing into this.

So my answer? The biggest change.

“Life feels like one continuous timeline now.”

What do you mean, Andrew? Of course life is one continuous timeline. For everyone, all the time. You sleep. You wake up. You’re still you. Well, not for me with alcohol. You have gaps. You have episodes people have to remind you about. Forgotten conversations. Hazy nights. Hitting pause to escape who you are for a bit. And on the worst mornings, you have to gather yourself physically just to become who you need to be, but it’s okay cause it’s only a Sunday, right? Again, this is just my experience and many people have very healthy relationships with alcohol.

But now I’m feeling like one person. One boring person sometimes, sure. (Sigh. Is anything fun, dammit?) But at least it’s a continuous timeline like I’m watching one TV station all the time now.

So now the question is, and it’s a question for everyone in life really I think – when you have one continuous show on all the time, and you’re just one person all the time …

Do you like what is on?