Showing posts with label self loathing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self loathing. Show all posts

Tuesday, 12 May 2015

Day Three



Day Three. Day three is always the wobbly day. Day One is easy, usually because it’s Hangover Day – or should I say “ Motherfucker of a Hangover Day” rather than the usual “ Low level fuzziness which is my daily normal Hangover Day”.
Day Three usually follows Day Zero – overdrinking on a scale that means I sleep in an alcohol induced coma on the couch to about three o’clock in the morning – wake up feeling like shit, and then hastily check my phone to make sure I haven’t drunk texted, or facebooked anything stupid and embarrassing, then fall into bed, to try and get normal sleep, before my husband gets up with the sun.
Then comes Day 1 – aforementioned Motherfucker Hangover Day, and I try and act all breezy and normal, trying to hide the fact that coffee (second in line to my first love, wine) is causing my stomach to do flip flops. If I’m lucky, and I don’t have to do any damage control in cyber world, I just spend the day in general misery and self –loathing.
Day 2 – always way better. Coffee tastes good, I usually feel a little smug, the day can be fairly productive (for that read * get a couple of things done*), and I pat myself on the back, because I can, if I really try, make it past wine o’clock without cracking open a chilled bottle of white. Unless of course, my husband pours himself a whiskey, and then I get irrationally pissed that I am missing out, and drive down to the liquor store for the chilled white.
(Note – Somehow – and I am sure I will examine this at some point, I have managed to convince myself that drinking white wine – is not actually drinking….wtf??)
Then comes Day Three. It’s always the test. I feel like I have purged and cleansed for two days, and to reward myself, I contaminate my body – YET AGAIN – with a bottle of wine. Or two.
And, dear reader (at this point only me), that has been the pattern for at least ten years. Oh you fucking liar, more like twenty.
Why the change? No, I wasn’t checked into hospital, I didn’t kill anyone, I just felt like – I am always about a bottle away from achieving my potential – I never get there. I am SO CLOSE to building a truly awesome online business – then I have a couple of glasses of wine, and think, what the hell? I’ll write that tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.
Tomorrow HAS to be Day Four. No MORE Day Three’s.