You know it's time to blog when...

...you text someone "god, not drinking is boring."

:(

Today was NOT GOOD.  My little saga started out when I got to my "other job": I take care of my grandmother for 24 hours on Sunday/Monday.  She had a stroke recently, and lost her ability to say half the words she wants-- it is terribly stressful for all parties.  My mom, who also shares some responsibility for the week, said "Oh today has been bad."  She opens the fridge, where in lies a bottle of cheap chilled rose wine.  "I left the rest here for you--you may need it."

"Hello mom... I'm currently trying to not drink!"

"Ohhhhhh that's right.  I forgot"  I swear those words are fucking contagious.  They are the new swine flu.

I blew it off and got to work.  Things were fine: Grandma got to bed by 10pm as usual, I was up til 4am as usual coming off my weekend of bar tending.  And then at 7am I hear: "MARYYYYYYYYYY!  MARYYY come HELP me!" (My name's not Mary)

"What?!?  What's wrong?  Why/how are you up from bed?  You aren't supposed to do that!!"

And then I saw it: she had some how torn some skin mid sleep and was a bloody mess.  O. M. G.  I was not awake enough for this shit.  "Don't think of the three vodkas in the cabinet, or the cheap rose in the fridge..." I thought to myself.   After 30 minutes of hell, we were off to an early day.  A long day.  A "What The FUCK are you still talking for?" kind of day.  The constant talking is killing me.  She is so stressed she can't communicate properly, she keeps trying and trying.  However you cannot be verbally aggressive with her, you have to treat her like a blossoming child who only responds well to constructive conversational tones.  The issue with taking care of an elderly woman, who is also a loved one, is you HAVE to put yourself in their shoes.  You absolutely have to.  She's the best woman ever, who has been traumatized with the loss of her husband, and the paralization and recent loss of her only son, let alone her recent stroke.  She needs someone to help her with every single move, and doesn't know meds from meds we are forced to give her per her doctors.

After this shift, the "end of my business week," I need a drink.  Every Monday.  8:16pm when I get back to St. Louis.  Yet tonight, even with the invitiation to go out with Charles, I am being good.  Charles has been reluctantly supportive of his new "sober susie" friend, but even I want a drink tonight.

I cannot I cannot I cannot.  Monday's have to be the worst for me.  It has to be.  Hopefully.

On a lighter note, my writing and my detox have encouraged a few friends to try something new: A close friend and co-worker has been doing this for the last six days with me.  Another co-worker is now going to try a one week detox.  Another friend is starting a blog he's always wanted to do.  It is a very cool feeling to see my stupid little challenge and my ranting encourage someone else to do something progressive.

Kudos to you all.  Let's all kick ass together.

Oh, and one last thing, that has nothing to do with this blog: FUCK YOU Ups Ground!  My package is still in transit?  >:(  That's right, a mean face to you.