Rejection City

My guitar guru is really pressing me on his desire not to accept the guitar I sent him. It’s now getting weird. He keeps saying he and his wife don’t even spend as much on each other for Valentine, birthday, or Christmases.

Maybe the problem isn’t with me.

Anyway, after his third response, I’ve told him just to throw it in the river if he doesn’t want it.

"Well, aren't you in a pickle then. If you send it back, you'll offend me, but if you keep it, you'll have to upgrade your love to your WOE-MAN.

Hmmm...

Ok, if I was more of an evil genius then, just maybe, I'd have an end game here. But I'm not. So I don't. I used to wear glasses and not talk much, so people thought I was smart. I'm not. Now I don't wear glasses. And I don't shut up.

You're making this weird.

Trust me, I've wasted MORE money on random internet "friends" (and this email exchange) in the last five years or so than you'd care to imagine. The social landscape of the internet has changed. Your boy will be sending girls cars over Snapchat before he even knows how to drive.

You've earned this.

Or just... throw it in the East Anglian flood plain. 

Peace  x"

I can’t be arsed with all this.

Three blog entries in a day?!

Effort.

My one reader in Portugal better appreciate this.

Gypsies, tramps, and thieves

No gurus.

No friends.

No pigeons.

No dads.

No nothing.

At the very least, I can say I’ve tried.

At the very, very, very, very least.

Sigh.

To all the kids out there - love will die after you hit puberty.

Nobody will have time for you anymore.

You might as well kill yourself after that.

Seriously, it’s not worth it.

People are just the worst.

Bird seed for the soul

 So my guitar guru finally got home and unboxed what I sent him. He said it’s too generous and he can’t accept it. I hope he’s just being polite. If he does actually return it then I’ll be very hurt.

I get a lot of pigeons on my balcony, so I thought I’d finally put some seed out for them. Some of them stay in town, even around autumn/winter, so it might help them out. They’ve not touched it yet.

I watched a documentary about Scott Walker yesterday. My dad’s a big fan, so I ordered him a copy. If he doesn’t accept his gift either, I think I’ll have a nervous breakdown.

At least I managed to finally pick up my medication yesterday. Everywhere was back open after the Bank Holiday. I also bought a blood pressure monitor, as my doctor wants me to keep track for a week.

Can’t imagine what’s stressing me out.

LIFE IS SO MUCH FUN.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Effects loop

Sometimes I hold off on writing one of these blog entries, should I have some minor escapade planned. Today, I knew I needed to go out to pick up some energy meter top-ups and my medication so, logically, I chose to wait until I got home to write something. There was a certain anxiety inherent in my journey, as I now know that I will usually have something to document.

And it won’t be good.

Well, this wasn’t the worst thing ever. Just a little embarrassing. Anyway, it’s Bank Holiday Monday today, which I was totally unaware of. I know a lot of local shops have closed down due to the effects of the lockdown, but it was like the post-apocalypse out there today. I did manage to get some meter credit sorted, which was a high priority, but the shutters were down at the pharmacy I usually go to. I really don’t think dispensers of life and death medication should be allowed to close on weekends and Bank Holidays.

It is now 2023, after all. Let’s update some opening policies, shall we?

At least I got something done. Sadly, I did get barked at by some arsehole’s yappy little mutt outside the shop. Dear All Dog Owners, if your dog barks incessantly at people for no reason, please do not tie them up directly outside places of public interest. Yours Sincerely, Every Other Human Being on the Planet Earth.

Fucksakes.

Oh well, I’m back home now and the oven’s on to reheat some takeaway leftovers. I need to put a grocery order in too, but I’m not desperate for supplies as of yet.

My guitar guru has been away for a week or so sunning himself, since it is the school holidays and all that. This is why he hadn’t yet acknowledged the guitar I sent him. Apparently, his neighbour texted my friend to let him know that he’d taken a parcel delivery for him, which is how he found out. It seems he responds to his neighbour’s messages, but not mine. I’m guessing my friend will be back home today or tomorrow, so I hope he likes what I got him.

It’s so nice that people only contact me nowadays when they’re worried they might be a victim of identity theft.

Well, I treated myself to some guitar accessories last night, which should arrive Wednesday. It’s not anything fancy, just a cable, some earplugs, an ebow, and a bunch of high E strings (they tend to break the most). I’ve never used an ebow before, so I’m quite excited to play around with it. I believe it allows you to hold a continuous note without actually plucking the strings. Very cool. The above guitar guru recommended one years ago and, for some reason, it’s taken me this long to finally take the plunge.

I’m still knocking about with singer-songwriting, instead of just instrumentals. I was encourage this morning when I realised I had one of my own songs stuck in my head. That has to be good, right? I’m actually tempted to contact that music school I went to briefly a few years ago for some basic singing lessons. I think shyness is my worst enemy. A softly-spoken person stands out like a sore thumb in a northern English town.

I also rearranged some amps in my living room too, as my little music nook has gotten rather cluttered. Some gear isn’t as accessible as I’d like it to be, which creates health and safety issues. It’s a work in progress!

Since I still need to go out for my medication this week, I’m wondering whether to tie it in with a trip to the pub. I haven’t been to one since May which, surprisingly, hasn’t bothered me as much as I thought it would. I am saving quite a bit of money, I must say. Hmmm, maybe I’ll just wait until the weekend and buy in my usual party box of red wine and go crazy with some bad movies.

Smash cut to…

So, yes, that’s my life at the moment - not much happening, but lots of things bothering me. I’m feeling better off my antidepressants. Those horrible “adrenaline seizures” have officially stopped, which makes it all worth it. I can actually go to bed now without fear of my head nearly exploding.

It’s the little things in life.

I dug out the film Walk the Line to watch the other day. I actually went to the cinema with my dad to see it back in 2005. Joaquin Phoenix is just amazing in everything he does. Seriously, I think he should get an Oscar every year JUST for being Joaquin Phoenix, regardless of whether he's worked that year or not. Plus it has Reese Witherspoon in it, whom I will forever have endless time for. Hey, have you ever noticed how you never see Reese Witherspoon and Amy Poehler in the same room together?! Well I have. I’m onto you, Reese Poehler! Anyway, I can relate to Cash’s difficulties with alcohol and being cursed with a creative spirit. The bit where June Carter’s mum tells June to go help out Cash when he’s having a meltdown always makes me tear up. I’m not 100% sure why:

Maybelle: You should go down there to him, June.

June: Mama?

Maybelle: He's all mixed up.

June: I am not goin' down there, if I go down there...

Maybelle: You're already are down there, honey.

See? I couldn’t even paste that in without having a little cry. I guess everyone needs a friend, even mixed up people.

Well, my late lunch/early dinner is ready, so I best sign off here.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The £300 hangover

My experience of alcoholic binging seems to have changed somewhat, now that I’m off the ol’ brain meds. I feel like I do it now just for 48 hrs of mindless fun, rather than to completely self-destruct in the most nihilistic way possible. Is this better or worse? I’m not sure, but it’s happening. Not right this second, but in general. I started drinking on Friday and stopped on Sunday. So two nights of the usual debauchery, instead of an entire week. Not bad.

Hmmm.

Anyway, that old colleague, friend, and guitar guru is still not replying to my emails. Either he’s having some serious personal crisis, pissed at me about something, or a third thing. I don’t know. So, yeah, after most of a party box of Australian Shiraz on Friday, and after watching many Phil X guitar demos, I thought it’d be a neat idea to buy him a guitar. Not a terribly expensive one, relatively speaking, but I thought it might force a response from him, either way. He’s meant to see it as either something to cheer him up, or a peace offering. It’ll be delivered tomorrow sometime, so I’ll let you know what his reaction is. If there is one at all.

My biggest fear is that he’ll just not accept it from the courier and have it returned to sender.

We shall see.

I can’t bear more people phasing me out of their lives. Sigh. Overly emotional alcoholics are a sorely misunderstood breed.

I think.

Give me a break, I’m lonely and in need of love, platonic or romantic. Can you really blame a girl for turning to the warmth of a bottle for companionship?!

Or party box.

I’m just listening to some Guided By Voices, which I haven’t done so in a while. I was pretty obsessed with them for about five years after “Game of Pricks” featured on an episode of The IT Crowd in about 2006. Nobody likes moving on from an interest, as you feel like you’re being dishonest, but I guess you can’t fake it. I’m hoping my love of them is back for a while, as they are just the best. I’ve tired myself out of building those “screen choons” and Hawaiian folk playlists on Spotify, so methinks my brain just needs a change.

Oh I’ve also started toying with adding lyrics to my guitar chord progressions. I think I mentioned that I was hitting a brick wall again with my playing, so maybe a return to singer-songwritering will be a step forward. Not convinced my neighbours will be too happy about it though. Did I tell you I can’t sing? Oh well, many great musical artists of our time can’t sing either, but that doesn’t seem to stop them. Why not me, huh?!

Well, I’ve not got much else to report, other than my usual tawdry financial ruin thanks to my love of wine, women, and theatre.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Cheer down

Well… hurrah!… I managed to recover from my wagon-falling after only three days, without sinking into another whisky abyss. I did have a bit of the golden death, but managed to pull myself out before it was too late. There’s still half of a litre bottle left in the kitchen. Perhaps coming off my medication has actually helped. I have had to pop a couple of 50mg tablets, three or so days apart, just to counter the dizzy spells. Yes, they finally reared their ugly head. Oh well, I’m pretty sure that, in general, I’m finally off them now. For good? Probably not. I still need to go pick up my diabetes medication from the pharmacy though, which I keep putting off. That can’t be good for me. I can tell it’s affecting my appetite.

On my sober days, I’ve kept myself busy with building a few playlists on Spotify. I’m quite proud of my compilation of alternative movie songs (although there is the odd hit on there). What started off as just a way to put some cheesy 80s tunes together has, unsurprisingly, turned into a labour of love. I always seem to get carried away with my lists.

Anyway, here it is…

screen choons

Let me know what you think, lovers.

What else? Oh, I’m still in text contact with that old school friend. It seems he’s having a life-crisis similar to the one I had back in the late 2000s. I’m trying my best to give him advice but, considering we haven’t seen each other since before we hit puberty, I’m kinda flying blind here. I don’t think it’s helped him that his wife cheated on him recently and that he’s employed in a job he doesn’t like (that he had to take because he was forced out of his last one). Poor guy. I’m mean, most people like those things happening to them, right?

Who knows, maybe we’ll end up together. We really were a camp little pair, back in the day. Plus I’ve been very open about my bisexuality, which he seems cool with. Stranger things have happened!

I’ve just had a few films arrive in the post: Death Becomes Her, Xanadu, and The Witches of Eastwick. I’ve been watching the former this afternoon. I must have watched it a hundred times when I was a teenager. It really rocks along, and has a very campy tone to it. Don’t think I picked up on that at the time, but it stands out to me now.

My guitar guru hasn’t been in touch in ages. I send him a music-related email every now and then, but he never replies. I think I may have offended him somehow. Or maybe he’s got intense stuff going on in his own life. We are both at that age where people keep dying on us. Good times.

Lol, I could just hear the woman next door abusing some poor customer service person over the phone. She’s one of those humans that doesn’t realise only need to speak at normal volume when using said communications device. I find her funny though, unlike The Whistler downstairs. Yes, he’s still doing that. All day and night. Sadly, I’ve heard him doing some decorating recently, so he may actually be here to stay.

Sigh.

Well, I think that’s all for now. Just thought I’d keep you abreast of my comings and goings for… I dunno… some reason.

You are having fun though, right?!

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Afternoon Update

Boulevard was just perfect, and I cried so much that, after a while, I just stopped bothering to wipe the tears away.

Why did you have to leave us, Robin Williams?! We’re all alone down here now.

I also bought some booze in, as I just couldn’t handle my intense emotions anymore.

See you on the other side (of the hangover).

A boulevard of broken dreams

Feeling a bit teary-eyed this morning. This’ll be the second day without antidepressants at all, having gradually stepped-down from 100mg to 50mg over the past week. Now nothing. I might pop one if I get noticeable side-effects, but I’ve not had any so far. Just the one should calm any bad withdrawals.

I didn’t have any booze delivered yesterday, in the end. I was umming-and-arring about it all night on Thursday, eventually coming to the conclusion that I just didn’t fancy getting drunk. Seems logical. I’m slightly regretting that decision now though.

I don’t mean to blitz you all with posts this week, but it seems like a good coping mechanism. I’m getting a little fed up of stuffing my face, which is perhaps why I now fancy a drink. I’m not very good at sticking to routines. Improvisation is my mistress.

I’ve finally plucked up the courage to watch the film Boulevard, which is one of Robin Williams’ last films. I’ve had a DVD copy for years now, but I’ve just not felt strong enough to fire it up. I’m not even sure I’m strong enough this morning but, well, I guess I needed to watch a drama to see where my post-medication emotions sit. I watched E.T. yesterday and was crying my eyes out, which should have tipped me off to how I’d feel this morning. E.T. is a particularly distressing film though. It was definitely incorrectly marketed (or correctly, if Universal’s plan was just to make money) as a kids’ movie.

Is there such a thing as a “kids’ movie”?! I always assume such things are really for parents to help them feel safe and like good parents.

Anyway, Boulevard is certainly turning out to be a tear-jerker, which is fine, considering I’m crying already.

I keep imagining how I would have dealt with the situation if I was the one who’d found my ex passed away in her bed. I’m glad her doctor-friend found her instead. I’m sure she’s used to such things. I might write a story about how I had a dream the night before about my ex and I bumping into each other in town and trying to arrange a proper get-together. We never did manage to pin down a date and time. But, then again, she was never very good at freeing herself up for me. Maybe she felt like she didn’t have to. Oh well.

I’m not sure food is going to get me out of this state of mind. I’m not sure I even WANT to get out of it.

Sigh.

What a palaver.

Pins and needles

I’m wondering whether to drink over the weekend.

No whisky, of course. Just the usual party box of red wine and maybe some beers for the hangover. I’m not exactly “treating myself” for being sober this past fortnight, it’s just… I don’t know…. something to do, I guess. The summer has finally arrived, and I think it’s going to be a particularly hot one over the weekend. Booze usually helps with that. Or am I just coming up with excuses? Sigh. I nearly went down to the pub today actually, as I was already out at the doctor’s surgery getting my annual health check, so I casually allowed it as an option. I assumed I might need a stiff one after being prodded and poked and interrogated by a g grumpy nurse for half an hour. But I didn’t. Actually, I don’t really fancy a drink now, I’m just… well… preempting the need. I guess I could get some wine in and just leave it in the cupboard. I don’t HAVE to drink it.

To be honest, I’ve gotten into quite a good sober routine, which is what’s making me reconsider falling off the old wagon. The food is helping. I just graze whenever I start feeling emotional. It’s helped that I’ve stopped having a daily meal, instead breaking down the components of potential meals and eating them separately as individual snacks. Unless I order a big fat mo’flipping takeaway, that is. Then I’m all business.

Well, I’ve got until 2344 to make my decision.

I’ve been watching Romancing the Stone today, which is one of those classic 80s movies that I grew up with. I adore both Michael Douglas AND Kathleen Turner, so it’s a perfect movie for me. I actually saw Turner in the West End production of The Graduate back in the 90s, so I’ve technically been in THE SAME ROOM as one of my all-time favourite people. Damn that feels good! I just wish there was a copy of Serial Mum available in the UK. It looks like I’m gonna have to go Belgian import for this one.

Bastards.

Well, I think the streaming boom will eventually burst (I think it’s already happening now, what with artists fighting back over poor royalties from said services), as everything does, so maybe the UK home video market will improve soon.

Well, I best go change the room I’m sitting in. I get a bit bored with the same scenery after a few hours. Think I’ll listen to some podcasts while fighting the heat.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Panic at the cornershop

So I checked my electricity meter this morning and found I only had two pounds left on it, which was likely to run out within 24 hours or so. Even though I’d, if you can possibly believe it, planned to spend the day inside on my arse, I obviously had to get moving and visit the shop for some top-ups. Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone else on the estate, and their kids, had the exact same idea. Sigh. I went to the new shop just over the road, which is lovely and close but, alas, it’s incredibly dark and cramped. Throw in a bunch of disorganised families with prams and you get me on the verge of a nervous breakdown. While the kids just stood there staring at me waddling about with my cane, the adults did their best to get me to the checkout. I’m glad I wasn’t hungover or anything, as I really would have had a proper panic attack and cried in a corner. But, praise Crom, I made it back home alive and topped up my electricity meter. Now all I need to do is crawl inside the kitchen cupboard and do the same with the gas. I’m surprised it’s not gone off already, to be honest.

Last night I ordered a Chinese takeaway, as I was feeling rather glum. Preempting a full depressive slump, I thought it best to just get some fancy food in and see where that took me. I wasn’t particularly hungry for it, but the gesture was enough to buoy my spirits.

I’ve been watching the Charlton Heston Ben-Hur since yesterday. I’d say it’s taken me this long because of my short attention span but, no, it is just a really long film. I’m not religious, so I’m into the story more for the recreation of that era, which I’ve been reading up a lot about lately. You kinda have to put up with the religious stuff if you want a good historical epic. I think it’s only in the recent couple of decades that they’ve tried to make them more secular. I know religion was an unquestioned part of life two thousand years ago, but my eyes still can’t help but roll at some of the spiritual pontificating. Oh well.

I’ve also been working my way through the animated Around the World with Willy Fogg series, which I saw as a kid. The ex and I were watching it over at her place whenever I popped round, but we never got to finish it. I’m determined to this time, although it is brining back some sad memories. I’ve been thinking about going for lunch at some of our old haunts, but I’m not sure whether that’s such a good idea. Maybe it’ll give me some closure. Maybe it’ll make my grief worse. Who knows.

Oh, I forgot to say, I’ve decided to come off my antidepressants, which I’m sure will only be temporary. I need to make some sort of change, plus give my brain a bit of a kick. This is what I came up with. Also, the insomnia that comes with being on them is just getting too much for me. Not only is it physically painful (I have what I call “adrenaline seizures” as I enter the hypnogogic phase of sleep), but it also encourages my alcoholism. Say what you like about boozing, but at least you get your rest! I’m coming off the tablets gradually, going down from 150mg to 100 and now 50, so I’m not feeling the usual dizziness that comes with cold-turkey withdrawals. I am curious to see how I get on without any brain medicine but, from past experience, I know I won’t get on very well. We shall see.

Speaking of insomnia, I’ve gone back to listening to some podcasts in bed. I’ve mostly been on audiobooks the last few years (having gone off podcasts for some unknown reason), but it seems I’m dipping my toe back in. My favourite at the moment is Blurry Photos, which is about urban legends and superstitions and the like. Some episodes are a bit too spooky for nighttime listening, but most are fine. The two guys who do it are so funny although, sadly, one of them left a few years ago. I’m guessing the new incarnation is a little more organised and straight-laced. So, yes, I alternate between podcasts, audiobooks and music while I’m lying there for hours not falling asleep. I really hope this sleeplessness will change soon, but at least it gives me time to learn new stuff, what with all the reference audiobooks I’m gobbling up.

Crazy days.

Anyway, I best go back to watching a bunch of pasty-faced white guys pretend to be arabs.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The Last Temptation of Jim

I’m having quite bad alcohol cravings this morning, so I thought I’d put pen to paper in an attempt to work through it.

I’ve been doing very well in staying off the old sauce but, for some reason, my brain is coming up with a million and one fun scenarios where I get totally blasted. I keep reminding myself of how bad I’ll feel afterwards, which doesn’t seem to be enough right now. I keep snacking, which has been helping a lot. I’ve had some almonds and cheese with my morning coffee, plus a bowl of chopped tomoatos with seasoning. All very nice! I might put some instant noodles on to steep, which should be ready by the time I finish this.

I think I’ll make the train station my new pub of choice. Urgh. See?! My mind just wanders to booze. But, yeah, while I’m taking an indefinite hiatus from my old pub, I’ll go to the station instead. It’s nice and anonymous down there, plus I can watch people scrambling desperately for trains while I sit sipping ales.

But a trip to the pub isn’t on the cards at the moment. Or is it?! My main goal is to keep off the whisky, which is a deep, deep, deep kind of alcoholism that takes forever to shake off. Beer and wine is a day’s hangover. Tops

Anyway, my cupboards are well-stocked after Saturday’s grocery delivery, so I have no excuses. I bought this fancy tray of Swedish meatballs, which was very nice. The sauce was surprisingly creamy and sweet (I’ve never been to Ikea), which I may try to emulate in my own cooking. I do like breaking down taste boundaries!

Hobby-wise, my guitar playing has reached a bit of a brick wall. I’m still not keen on learning other artists’ songs, but I need to do something. My own chord progressions just aren’t challenging me anymore. I’m currently enjoying listening to Hawaiian folk music, which I may try to learn. I made a playlist on Spotify of different Hawaiian artists, which is very nice to just chill to. The musicianship is actually very impressive (I don’t know why my expectations were so low), which I don’t think Hawaiians get enough respect for. It’s a very guitar-driven sound, which is great for me.

I’ve not heard from anyone in a while, although I am purposefully cutting myself off from society at the moment. An old school friend has gotten back in touch, so we’re communicating via text messages. He seems to have a dark, perverted sense of humour like myself, which most people my age have had surgically removed. I guess I’ll never grow up properly.

I did meet up with a mutual friend of my ex’s the day my old pub had that depressing chat with me (which actually made for a nice excuse to leave early). I met my friend at a veggie/vegan restaurant in town, which was, as you might expect, overpriced and kinda depressing. Still, it was nice to see her again for the first time since before Covid and my ex passing away. My friend was the one who rang me last year to give me the terrible news. Sigh. She’s an angel. We did agree to meet up weekly for a coffee but, as of yet, this hasn’t happened. She’s very busy and only comes to town once a week, having moved out to the east coast with her girlfriend a few years ago.

Everybody keeps leaving! It’s like when I had my meltdown back in Cambridgeshire.

Hmm, that’s a bit worrying.

Anyway….

Since my diet at the moment is top-heavy, in terms of the timing of my eating, I’m usually not particularly hungry by the end of the day. I think that’s the way around you’re supposed to do it. I guess this is a good thing, as it means I’m not hungry by the time the takeaways open, which means I’m saving a little money. I bought loads of bags of stir fry vegetables, which I’m having at random points throughout the day. I figure the important thing is that I just get something healthy into my system, even if it’s not part of a meal. I prefer grazing anyway, rather than the formality of timed meals. I must have been a farmyard animal in a previous life!

Makes sense.

I really need to check on my energy meters, as I’ve been indoors for about two months. The only fresh air I get is when I go down to the wheelie bins. I had over a hundred pounds on my electricity meter, the last time I checked, so I’m hoping that’ll last a little longer. I’m expecting my gas meter to go any moment though.

Well, I best put the kettle on to prepare those noodles. Maybe I’ll start buying the fresh ones instead, just to shake things up. Saying that, the whole point of having instant food is that I don’t put off eating due to the effort of cooking from scratch. And if I don’t eat - I get sad. And if I get sad - I drink.

All good fun.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Against the ropes

You know things are bad when I, of all people, start using sports metaphors. To be fair, I do feel like I’m fighting against myself at the moment. My post-ex-girlfriend-dying meltdown has reached a crescendo, getting to the point where I was drinking a litre of cheap supermarket whisky a day. That’s not an exaggeration, it really was cheap and nasty stuff.

What made me hit rock bottom, you ask?

Well, to cut a long story short, I sent a flirty message to one of the bartenders at my regular pub on Facebook, which he had a massive sense of humour failure about. The next time I went in there, he refused to serve me and got the manager to give me a private talking to. I was devastated. While I wasn’t banned or anything, I politely finished the one drink the manager did serve me, left on the verge of tears, and haven’t been back since, opting instead for staying at home, alone, and attempting to drink myself to death with the above cheap spirits.

Sigh.

What can I say, I don’t work there, the message was sent privately on social media (he'd accepted my genuine and innocent friend request months before), and I wasn’t in the pub at the time. I’m still not sure why the pub had to get involved but, well, they did. I just don’t know what to do or say, so I’ll probably never return. I knew it was a mistake to try bonding with those people. I always… ALWAYS… manage to screw things up. If I do find a new pub, I’ll just go back to sitting quietly in the corner trying to remain as anonymous as possible. That way I won’t hurt, annoy, or embarrass anyone.

Well, that was two months ago now, and I finally got fed up of the whole drinking-myself-to-death thing. It didn’t seem to be working, obviously, and being a full-blown alcoholic, rather than just a scrappy little binge-drinker, is very expensive and time-consuming. Plus, unfortunately, even if you give up on life, life doesn’t give up on you. The bastards keep sending you letters and trying to call. So, yeah, I haven’t drank in a week, and I’m hoping to keep it that way indefinitely. My recovery tactic is to just eat whenever I feel like a drink. Eating always makes me happy and puts me off boozing, so it seemed logical. I’ve just put in a grocery order filled with instant noodles, soups, couscous, bags of pre-prepared stir fry vegetables and the like, which I’ll snack on throughout each day to keep my brain from trying to convince me to drink. It’s VERY good at doing that. Plus there’s lots of local takeaways to splurge on, should I find myself really struggling.

Actually, today is the first day where I’ve started feeling positive and upbeat. The hangover from two months of heavy drinking took that long to shake off. It had gotten that bad. I’m not sure what my long-term plan is, but at least it’s not whatever I’ve been doing lately. I’ve got plenty of audiobooks and DVDs and guitars to get on with playing, so I’ll just focus on that for now. Let’s face it, going to the pub just means sitting quietly in another dark room not doing much, so I may as well do that at home and save my pennies.

And sanity.

I’m sure I’ll crack in a few days, especially if some new disaster is looming but, well, at least I can say I’ve tried.

Not that I’m cynical or anything.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!