Wednesday, March 29, 2006

The Week

Keeling over in a gin-soaked sweat is no way to begin hump day.

I realize this.

Whole wheat blueberry waffles from Trader Joe help absorb some of last night’s sugared rum. But the rest remains.

I knew not to mix liquors.

During my nauseous commute, I try to pinpoint a moment.

When did it become too difficult to go out during the week? When did it become that I found myself entrenched in my sad little routine of work, the gym (or homework as an excuse not to go to the gym), and Idol, so much so that any break from the ordinary results in excess and disorientation?

There wasn’t always this. There was a time that I flew out of the door, holding close to my first few paychecks, to work functions, to catching up with friend functions, just functions in general really, each night of the week.

There was a time when I went out on a Tuesday, quite hard, and the entire next day at the job I felt it, churning in my stomach and across my feverish forehead. And fell asleep in my cube on the sharp of my elbows. And then on the chugging subway downtown I knew what was coming. At five thirty, the day after I had drunk myself to sickness, I pressed up the underground stairs, and began a slow, sloshing jog home out of necessity.

A young father with his little boy passed on the right side of First Avenue, then stopped to look at the flash of a glowing cell phone accessories display. The young boy was bundled up in red fleece; the father’s smile shining. They turned to continue their winter walk. But not fast enough. I looked into the boy’s eyes, and as he stared back at me, I leaned over.

I said to his father, in a pitiful voice, “I’m sorry.”

Then I threw up, all over the sidewalk. And as I was heaving, I saw in the corners of my eyes, before they rolled a little back into my head, the father grab the child and scurry off.

I said it again when I finished, this time to no one. “I’m sorry.”

Not any more.

Now I’ve shied away from drinking during the week so much that a few cocktails send me packing at eight thirty. And a grilled cheese doesn’t wipe a clean slate from the Tuesday before.

I wonder what happened between then and now, because I certainly don’t feel any more grown up.

19 comments:

Anonymous said...

Maybe its responsibility? I know that keeps me from drinking during the week like I used to. Plus woprk schedules don't let you take naps like college used to.

Adam said...

Something I have to thank my parents for... are my awesome genes. I'm 23 (going to be 24 here in not too long), and I still don't get hangovers. Last night (tuesday) from about 8PM on, I had 7 or 8 drinks... but was still able to wake up this morning at 6AM this morning, and come to work bright(ish) eyed and bushytailed.

work, running, and homework are the only things I have time for anymore... so I take any opportunity to go out with my friends, even if its on a tuesday night.

Motherkitty said...

Oh, my. How embarrassing for you.

The trick to drinking on a week night is to eat something beforehand that is not greasy. Drink only one drink containing alcohol, and then only drink Shirley Temples the rest of the night. That way you look as if you are drinking but actually are not. Believe me, you will have a better time of it.

Also, if you feel that hung over and sick to your stomach the next day, don't go to work. Stay in bed and sleep it off.

It took me many years to finally say no, thanks, to booze. Just doesn't do anything for me now except make me sleepy. Also, I never drink and drive.

Motherkitty says, I hope you're feeling better now.

Sal said...

nah... it's just cowardice, is what it is.

oh, great way to cure the omigodimgonnadie aspect of the hangover is a food supplement called NAC- N-Acetyl-Cysteine. it's the precursor to the chemical your liver uses to break down alcohol. you'll still dehydrate (without water), and you still won't be intelligent and zingy the next day, but you won't be suffering. ideally take a couple of capsules before bed, but more safely if out for a YOOJ one, take 2-3 before you head out. you know it makes sense.

marrow-from-harrow said...

There is only one way to cure a hangover, and it involves time alone, and my blog.

MKD said...

Haha. Somebody is OLD.

Just Some Guy said...

Great story...and all part of being our age and being in New York City. Let our friends who live in middle America go straight home after work to watch Idol. We've got the rest of our lives to do that...I say keep going out, just find your fine line of going out and GOING OUT!

Hope you're feeling better by now!

El Charolastra said...

keeling over in a gin-soaked sweat IS the way to start.

glad to see someone besides me drinks gin.

~Deb said...

And you’re only 24 yrs old! (hehe) I remember the days coming home at 5am, and having to leave work by 8am. It sounds bad---but I somehow managed to pull it off. Now? Forget about it. I have a few martinis and I’m literally debilitated the next day bedridden.

I think the more you party- the more your tolerance goes up- the more you become like a 19 yr old. You’re growing up and becoming quite the responsible lady!

Now that I’m 32 yrs old, a good dinner with a couple of glasses of wine is good enough for me. I’ll greet you at the door when you’re 30 yrs old……to the ‘can’t hang anymore’ group! (just kidding)

Feel better!

GeminiWisdom said...

LOL...I agree with Beautiful Man. Seriously though...I never had that problem, seeing as I don't drink. But I feel for ya...

Serena said...

Maybe our bodies are attempting to drag us into "adulthood" before our minds are ready to go.

Grant said...

I know exactly how that felt after doing that more than a few times. The only difference was that I would think to myself, "Cool, more room for some more alcohol," and walk back into a bar.

I'm sure that, like me, getting so drunk that you're still drunk the next morning stops being fun after a while. Then again, for some people I know, the fun never pales.

P.S. I like what I am seeing in your blog so far, keep it up!

QuarkMan said...

I relate. Three pints of Belgian Leffe (a gorgeous, creamy ale that I must recommend in moderation) and two glasses of white something hit me for six last night. I tried a combination of chocolate custard, pepper salami and Coca-cola by way of remedy for breakfast, but am still feeling pretty ropey.

Sober In the City said...

Unfortunately, I can relate. Thats how it used to be for me.

I would make rules like, "never on week nights", "only beer".

But things have changed and now I often stay out until 4 am on a school night, but I'm just tired the next day.

Keep blogging lady!

Blush said...

mixing liquors will kill you everytime. so will mixing liquor and beer. heed this rule of thumb, its gotten me out of many a hangover:
"beer before liquor, never been sicker. liquor before beer, have no fear!"

Further on up the road said...

Now the real question is "what will change?".

If you're smart about this it'll never happen again, you'll not mix the drinks, not go out, not have so much etc.

I spent a large part of my 20s working and drinking in London (not sure the order shows the true priority in my life then!). I had many afternoons/evenings decorating London's pavements in this way. But I learnt..... I learnt to drink differently and hide it better. That was a big mistake. Nearly 20 years later I was sat in a rehab wondering what the hell had happened to my life.....

I hope you won't need to go the same route.

Cheetarah1980 said...

puking like that is exactly why I stopped drinking my sophomore year of college. Sobriety rules! Sort of.

Pink Lemonade Diva said...

Once, on the Path heading back to Hoboken I had to de-board at Christopher St. b/c I simply knew I couldnt' make it to the tunnel. Ran to the end of the platform and puked over the side, hoping no homeless person had taken refuge down below me.

Oh the low. I'm sorry yours happened in daylight. :)

Buffy said...

Work. Gym. Work. Gym. When did it become so difficult to fit in everything else.

And yeah. No alcohol during the week. Otherwise 5am wakeup calls never work.