New Weekend!
May 18th, 2012Well, it's eleven o'clock Friday night...
I started to go to Brewster Street Icehouse tonight, but I couldn't find anywhere to park and I didn't hear any music playing. I'd hate to go to a bar by myself - especially since I don't even drink anymore... but I just want to try something, anything different - just to say I "did" something over the weekend. Lately my weekends consist of sleeping, avoiding (and finally sometimes doing) house chores, watching TV and movies back-to-back-to-back on the computer... and doing the sober program thing. 
I don't know what my deal is - just friggin' bored with life I guess. They say working with other alcoholics is the only way to "get out of my head," but I don't know - I miss this other thing we used to have a lot... what was it called... what's the word..? Oh yeah... FUN.
Now, don't get me wrong - I was not having fun before I got sober - not for a number of years, save for a rare occurrence here and there - and I am not trying to get down on the program. But, I just don't want that to be all my life is anymore - "work and go to meetings, work and go to meetings". 
I guess I'm trippin' because I'm about to turn thirty next month. I'm happy with my job, and my living situation is fine... but I miss having a "social life" - I believe I did have one of those once upon a time... pretty sure anyway. I don't want to keep on this way - I need something more out of life...
But, alas, that's my alcoholic way of thinking - I'm never satisfied with anything - I guess I still haven't fully grasped the concept that "I do not know what I need to make me happy."
Anyway, bitch bitch bitch, piss and moan - right? 
The truth is, I am happy with my life, I am grateful for each day that I get to wake up in my own bed. For the fact that I have a roof over my head, my bills are paid, and that I have a job that I love. I have wonderful family and friends that care about me and that talk to me each day. I have a good running truck, and money in the bank.
And, I am especially grateful that I do not have to spend every waking hour pouring a bottle down my throat, lest I experience the horrible nervousness, shaking, headaches, sweats and panic that came when I ran out.
Well, I guess in hindsight, things are pretty good today. If I get to stay in my own apartment and do as I wish for the next fifty-two hours, then I am a lucky man indeed, and I guess I should put on my big-boy undies and enjoy it. ![]()
Well, I hope you've enjoyed my little pep talk to myself - I sure as hell feel better.
And now, music - a blast from the past:
Night ya'll.
- Pinkie Dean








