SNOOZE

8:30 AM: Briefly considered getting out of bed at 7. I did keep one eye open to watch the sun rise and after that glorious event, drifted back to sleep.

Day 9.

DREAMS

7:45 AM: Wow. I had my first drinking dream this morning. Oddly enough, it was also an erotic dream (the details of which I won't go into on this blog).

Day 6.

RECYCLABLES

7:22 AM: I hear the truck empty the blue recyclable bins into its divided compartments and wonder if the driver notices there is less to empty this week. My previously substantial contribution to the "Aluminum / Plastic Only" is MIA.

A quick tally of my consumption provides the following results:

8 Budweiser tallboys x 5 nights per week =
40 cans (crushed once in the middle)
5 gallons, or
6,000 calories
$35 per week

x1 month=
160 cans (crushed once in the middle)
20 gallons, or
24,000 calories
$140 per month

x6 months=
960 cans (crushed once in the middle)
120 gallons, or
144,000 calories
$840 every 6 months

One beautiful day last spring, I had just cracked open my first beer and was peering into the parking lot through the branches of the huge pine tree that spreads across my living room window when I saw an obese senior-aged Caucasian female digging thru the recycle bins.

I watched, horrified and fascinated, as she withdrew each of my neatly-tied 7-11 bags filled with dead soldiers (crushed once in the middle), ripped them open, emptied the contents on the ground and proceeded to stomp each can into eternal flatness with the heel of her foot.

I wondered what she was thinking. And then I realized that I cared. Not so much what she thought, but what my neighbors must think.

I started collecting the nightly beer can bags, putting them all into a single, white garbage bag and throwing it away at night when I thought nobody was watching.

INDULGENCE

I admire women who take the time and money to pamper themselves. Not the wealthy bored who have nothing better to do with their time or money, but those who let the world know that they care enough about themselves to look and feel their best. My former boss—a beautiful person inside and out—was such a woman.

Every 6 weeks or so she'd have a different hairstyle. Her toenails were always manicured in the summer months. Her clothing was immaculate. She was always gracious and poised, and never once in three years did she raise her voice, use profane language or lose her temper. She told me the story of an all-day trip to a health spa she enjoyed. At the time it struck me as somewhat indulgent but I've always wondered what that would be like.

The last time I saw her she had taken up belly-dancing, dropped 30 pounds and was positively glowing. I'm seriously thinking I should take up belly-dancing. My abs and my ass could use some serious work.

This morning I had 3 inches trimmed off my hair and then colored it with henna. Henna is fantastic for two reasons:
1) It smells like tea and,
2) the grey strands end up looking like natural highlights.

I have eaten a total of a single cup of green bean casserole the past 96 hours. That's 4 days. In my world, appetite loss is an indication of extreme emotional upset. On the bright side, it takes a deficit of 3,500 calories to lose a single pound of fat, so by my calculations I'm down 1.5 pounds.

ALL GOOD THINGS

SUNDAY 6:30 AM: There is a company meeting at 8:00 am. The Regional Manager will preside. It's 6:30 a.m. and I'm awake.

I do not feel heavy or slow or shaky. My heart is not pounding. I am not dehydrated. My head is clear. My eyes are not bloodshot and watery. My face bears no sign of heavy drinking. I do not reek of alcohol. I am not replaying any tapes from last night, trying to remember what I might have said or done that I regret. I do not have to go back and open my chat transcripts to see what stupid, drunk-induced things I might have said to hurt and alienate a friend.

I do not hear that screaming voice of condemnation. I am not burdened with shame or guilt.

There is time to record this, enjoy a cup of coffee, and watch the sun rise.

These are All Good Things.