The Beginning of the End

I start my white pill in the daytime treatment today. I already have a chemical fog from last night. Chemical amnesia, too. So if I sent anyone anything offensive, I apologise. Those blue pills bring out the drunk in me; I tend to do things that I normally wouldn’t be inclined or brave enough to do. Like email a certain male blogger and tell him how sexy he is. Lord knows I don’t really want him. But my email last night made it seem like I do. But I really don’t. Maybe if I write that out enough, I will believe it.

Last night was wonderful. We went out to eat. It was a warm night, the stars were out. I’m not really sure why two recovering alcoholics would go to a bar-like place at night, but that’s where we ended up. Neither of us had anything alcoholic, but I wanted to. I was tempted to Irish up the coffee that I was drinking, even though I knew my husband would be disappointed in me if I suddenly started drinking again. Or if he knew I had started drinking again. It was amusing watching others drink and stagger around. I almost envied them. We actually danced after our drinks. I haven’t danced in such a long time. Not on a dance floor anyway and dodging snakes, scorpions and spiders does not count! *laughs* Of course my back, legs and feet are whining today. Dancing on my toes all night has its disadvantages, especially when you’re not used to it. But I had fun. I even got up on the stage and sang karaoke. Something I haven’t done in a long time, either. I wanted to sing Paradise by the Dashboard Lights with Dennis, but he wouldn’t get up there with me. Strange, knowing what he does for a living. I sang Ordinary World instead. I think I did pretty good, considering I was sober and had stage fright. I even got a standing ovation from strangers at the end of the song! That kind of made my night.

Today I get the lovely job of working on the seven seasons of a TV show my mother wanted me to download and burn for her. Then I get to sort out the bills, take Dennis to work, and fix lunch for the kids. It’s the last weekend I’m going to get to do any of this, or at least do it before I become too ill to appreciate it, so I’m really taking everything in. These are the things I’m going to look back at when I’m too ill to even get out of bed. The blue pill that I take at night causes chemical amnesia for eight hours. I wish there was a version to cause the same thing for eight months, so I wouldn’t have to remember what I am going to be going through bright and early Monday morning. The more I think about it, the less I want to go through with it. Even if Doc Mick says it’s going to be relatively painless and quite comfortable.

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