margarita

Drip

margarita

I stopped drinking again. And then I didn’t. And then I did. And then I didn’t. And then not at home. I’d only have a drink if I was out with friends or at dinner. And then at home again. And then not. It’s the most unrhythmic, partnerless dance I’ve ever done.

The problem? Is there a problem? You know, a problem, problem? A seek help for it problem? If there is, it’s me. I like to drink. Can’t lie about that or gussy it up. I like it. I like the taste, the initial tipsy swimminghead feeling. I’d like to maintain that feeling but I never do, always unable to stop at just one. Or two. Sometimes six. And I dislike the fully drunk feeling. But then that’s how I usually wind up, so once again, I’m not drinking.

Margaritas are delicious. Tequila is so helpful in making me forget or not feel so why not just one more.

I know I’ve written about this before. Meh. I come and go. I drink and then I don’t. I feel no desire when passing a liquor store and then I pass mixers in the grocery store and it’s all DRINK PEPSI INSTEAD. And you know what? I buy a Pepsi and I’m good. And then I’m not.

Right now I’m good. I’m glad to say I’m good. Overdoing the Pepsi but not doing the tequila so I’d call that doing well. If, of course, well means sometimes often regularly not usually not often every now and then craving the hell out of a salt-rimmed, cold margarita.

I don’t now how long it’s been this time. Just a few weeks, I suppose, because I had quite a few around my birthday. So, a month maybe. I haven’t had any in near a month. I’ve gone longer. I’ve had less desire and I’ve had more desire. The one constant, though? I should really not drink at all. My friend Laurie put it best, when she said  she can’t drink like a normal person (what she said was  since she’s no longer there, “please patronize Belbys on Rockville Pike. They probably miss me, and I’d hate to see that nice man who used to give me free keychains and mints and stuff all the time go out of business.”)

And I’ve probably jinxed myself and will have a drink tonight.

Whatever. Try. And then one day, maybe, there’ll be a time where trying not do doesn’t even come into play. The not to becomes second nature.

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