My sobriety has lasted exactly 2 days. I discovered my husband had emptied out all my champagne bottles (no big loss, there were only four @ $10 each) but also I am missing a case of very nice Parducci Small Lot Zinfandel. I was willing to forgive the Cava but not the damn Parducci. Where was the Parducci? I asked him. I hid it, he replied. I'm going to send it to my sister after the holidays. Well, don't you think that's a bit presumptuous? The Parducci belongs to me. Well, you shouldn't be drinking anymore. In fact, you promised me you wouldn't.
News flash: alcoholics lie. He should know that by now. I found some old skunk beer and have had three bottles. Beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick but I miss my champagne.
As this short two-day time span has passed, I find myself becoming more and more bitter, angry, and resentful. I have somehow gone from an intelligent woman with sovereign rights and privileges that every human being should have to someone that is wearing cast-off clothes, living in an alley stinking of piss and panhandling for bottles of MD 20-20.
This woman now has to hide her drinking from her husband or risk myriad lectures. In my own house. That I put up the down payment for. That I am paying half the monthly payments on.
Where is the fun in going out to a nice restaurant any more if you can't enjoy a glass or two of nice wine with a yummy meal? May as well sit at home with a diet Coke and a bag of disgusting potato chips and watch reruns of Three's Company.
Jesus fucking Christ, the only thing that separates my house from Mirror Lake now is that the clientele is marginally better, I can cook myself decent meals, and turn up the goddamn thermostat when I'm cold.
News flash: alcoholics lie. He should know that by now. I found some old skunk beer and have had three bottles. Beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick but I miss my champagne.
As this short two-day time span has passed, I find myself becoming more and more bitter, angry, and resentful. I have somehow gone from an intelligent woman with sovereign rights and privileges that every human being should have to someone that is wearing cast-off clothes, living in an alley stinking of piss and panhandling for bottles of MD 20-20.
This woman now has to hide her drinking from her husband or risk myriad lectures. In my own house. That I put up the down payment for. That I am paying half the monthly payments on.
Where is the fun in going out to a nice restaurant any more if you can't enjoy a glass or two of nice wine with a yummy meal? May as well sit at home with a diet Coke and a bag of disgusting potato chips and watch reruns of Three's Company.
Jesus fucking Christ, the only thing that separates my house from Mirror Lake now is that the clientele is marginally better, I can cook myself decent meals, and turn up the goddamn thermostat when I'm cold.
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