Had quiet evening in yesterday. K was back lateish so I had time to potter and do some chores, make dinner and bathe in peace, which was lovely. Was reflecting too on my first big social engagement hurdle, at the end of the month. K’s sister is having her youngest christened. As a result, both sides of their respective families will be down and it will be the first time that I get to meet K’s Glaswegian relatives. Am really looking forward to it, but have to admit to being slightly anxious about the non-drinking part.
One aspect of K’s sobriety is that no-one ever tries to force booze on us in a social situation. It certainly helps, but on this occasion, it being a ‘knees-up’ type of affair, I think K has simply presumed that I will drink, as a special occasion thing. He’s very sensitive to the fact that other people around him should be allowed to drink as they see fit, so I don’t want to put him on edge by remaining dry, his worry being that it might appear to others that he is trying to influence my drinking habits. As we are going out for a really nice dinner on Saturday eve, I think it would be best to broach the subject then and perhaps explain a little about my ‘challenge’. I’d rather he was aware in advance than confused and concerned next weekend.
It’s funny, though, how not drinking is something you always have to explain. Unlike not smoking, which is totally understandable, everyone wants a ‘reason’ why you don’t drink alcohol, the assumption being we all want it and not wanting it is the odd thing. I know that I have been as guilty as the next person of quizzing anyone who didn’t want a drink on their motives, be it religion, alcoholism, a simple dislike/allergy or a monster hangover, there always had to be one.
It also struck me today, on my way into work, that my bottle of wine had been a faithful ‘friend’ for many years, and that giving it up as I have done is no mean feat, as it’s like rejecting and avoiding the one thing that has given you comfort over a long period of time. It’s usually around Thursday, as the weekend beckons, that I start to think about my association with drink, as Friday was always the start of drinking (had I not already spent the week on the piss as was often the case!!!). Almost everyone I know views the tipping point of Friday night as the start of some sort of bacchanalian feast, when booze and food can be consumed in massive quantities with impunity. I often hear people say that they ‘only indulge at the weekends’ as if eating their body weight in cream and cheese and drinking their recommended weekly allowance x 3 over 48 hours is somehow better that way! Fair enough, when you are working it’s best to do it with a clear head, which is the sensible reason for such an approach but there is another far more complex mental association for most people. They view the sinning over the course of 3 days as off-set by being a saint the rest of the time. They wait hungrily for Friday evening as the start of a free for all and then lament Sunday night when they have to put the brakes on. They live their lives wishing the week away and longing for bank holidays when they get an extra drinking day. Drinking becomes lionised as the best bit of the week, the fun part and the rest is simply passing the time making the money to spend on it.
So there is still a massive way for me to go before I can disassociate myself from this sort of behaviour. I still view the weekend as the start of pleasure and the week as a chore. I have to make a lot of changes to shake this up and they are definitely going to take time. But the first step is recognising it so at least I have embarked on the journey as best I can.
Anyway, tomorrow is indeed Friday and the start of a bank holiday weekend. Bring – it – on!!!
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