Today’s the start of another new day, another new week.  I’m going to get things in order.  I’m going to make a list.  I’m going to check things off said list.  Remember tossing everything in a bag and telling yourself that you’d deal with it later?  Well, later’s here.  And until things get crossed off in big bold ink I’m disgruntled, confused, disillusioned.  Spacey, lethargic, unfocused.  Lazy, repetitive, lazy.

Step Twelve: having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Getting things in order was of major importance to me.  Knowing that I was meeting deadlines and accomplishing tasks meant that my alcoholism was under control.  I knew I was addicted, but I felt that because I was meeting most of my obligations I wasn’t a low-bottom drunk; I wasn’t huddled around a garbage can fire under an overpass with four or five of my closest hobo friends.

I was a maintenance drinker.  And nothing helps a maintenance drinker feel like they’re in control quite like a list, an agenda, a pattern, a rut.  Knowing what’s next and then watching it happen is very reassuring.  I expected a certain dependable result from the contents of a 24-ounce can of Milwaukee’s Best Ice Beer, and it consistently delivered.  My faith restored, I could float through until noon, knowing that nothing would be able to shake me, mainly because I’d be hard-pressed to understand it.

This morning’s list just printed out:  work stuff, errands, appointments.  All manageable.  Just suit up and show up.  Get done what I can, and leave the rest for Tuesday.

Understand:  These things that need to be done?  They aren’t obstacles that keep me from my happiness.  They are things that are part of who I am and what I do; things that, if done correctly, bring joy in and of themselves.  Some of them anyway.

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