#dryweek

Dry Week: Update

galby68, , , , , , , 6 Comments

I talk a lot about being a procrastinator. 

“I put the ‘pro’ in procrastinate”, I say.

The flip side of that personality is spontaneity.  As in, “Hey, me…let’s do a Dry Week!” without considering the implications.

Like, I decided this on a Saturday night.  Without considering that while Saturday is my Monday, that would mean I have an entire work week ahead of me versus beginning my Dry Week on my Friday or Saturday and ending on my weekend so I can celebrate my success.  Now I’ve got five days in and a work week behind me…and I want to detox with a drink.

Alas.

Who knows?  Maybe it’ll be a Moist Week.

Another unseen ramification of a spontaneous Dry Week is pain.  One never really considers the slight medicinal effect of alcohol.  After a rough day of schlepping around Portland International, I can relax sore muscles with a beer or two or a glass of wine.

Additionally, I’ve had a visit from this recurring mouth pain.  I consider it an indicator of a cold or allergy episode.  Or my one wonky wisdom tooth coming out of dormancy.  So, maybe I’m getting sick and my sinuses are putting pressure on my upper jaw; maybe my teeth are doing the Macarena; or maybe I just don’t have my usual painkiller on board.

Makes a decent argument for situational medicinal marijuana, though.  I know I’ve got a honey stick around here somewhere.

The final side effect of not having a sufficiently elevated B.A.C I’ve encountered this week has been the niggling – and surprisingly spontaneous- urge to join up for NaNoWriMo.

National.

Novel.

Writing.

Month.

It’s every November, the challenge is to write a minimum 50,000 word novel in 30 days.

Ok, first, when I write, I describe my process as Hemingway-ing.  Having this thought in a Dry week ought to be enough of a disqualifier for the idea.

Second, I’ve got my company’s annual seminar this month, so that’s five days of work functions from dawn to drunk, effectively making my ~1675 daily word average a straight up 2000 words in order to meet the challenge.

Sure, I can bust out a 3500 word blog entry or two per month, but my other entries tend to be in the 1200-1500 word range.

And I don’t write every damn day!

This past month, I think I wrote 14/31 days for 16 or 17 posts.  It was my biggest volume month ever.

What the hell is sober Xtopher thinking?!?

Someone wrestle me to the ground and make me shotgun a keg.

Dry Week: Update

Dry Week!

galby68, , , , 8 Comments

I’ve been working on this little project at home for the last couple of days.

Finishing all my beer.

It’s not as crazy as it sounds, there was only eight to begin with.

I was inspired by a couple of factors:

– Recently, on my weekend, I read a blog entry of this blog buddy of mine about his month of dialed-back-drinking.  

It was the second friend-quaintance to tell me about their Octsober.  If they can do a month, I can do seven-ish days.

Probably five…

– I’ve got my company’s annual leadership seminar coming up in two weeks.  Wouldn’t hurt to shed a little bloat beforehand.

– This weekend starts the Gay Christmas celebrations and I – once again – have no plans or intent to celebrate the gay high holiday.  But I do enjoy my casual glimpses of the festivities.

– There’s this drunk kid on my MAX into work that is pretty lit – his word – who is escorting his two female friends to the airport.

When I first boarded, I thought it was The Wallpaper, actually.  Mexican, mad-dimples and I’d seen on The Facebook that he’d also been out celebrating last night with several female friends, so I was kinda attenuated.

Oh, plus we totally screwed when I got on.  He locked eyes with me and while I mentally processed that it wasn’t The Wallpaper, I could tell exactly what was going through his overly-relaxed mind.

It’s not as daunting a task as I made my Dry Week prep sound.  I had three beers last night, the final one with my melatonin so I could sleep through the Halloween party in the first floor courtyard of my building.  

Then I got a solid six hours of sleep.  

Two hours of sleep per beer.  That ain’t bad.

Saturday, though…phew.  That was a crazy night.

Five.

Whole.

Beers.

My big nights recently have been four beer maximums.  So, that fifth beer was a total party at Chez Galby.  But it was a late night, too.  I got home from an impromptu bike ride at 7:30, cracked a beer and stretched.

Healthy, no?

Then I showered, made dinner and over the next several hours I watched two movies, drank four more beers and went to bed at 1:00.

Wild times for Myrtle and me.

Then I was awakened at 6:00 by a work phone call, making my sleep:beer ratio one.  

Boo.

BTW, The Wallpaper’s doppelgänger is 20.

Jesus.  Inappropriate sexual frustration.  What a way to start a Dry Week.

Oh, he’s a college sophomore…that sounds less letchy.

Dry Week!