Alcohol’s personality is broken down into three factions, something like the Holy Trinity for drunks: cunning, baffling, powerful.

The other day I listened to a person with tons of sobriety talk about waking up in the middle of the night dreaming of a wine spritzer.  And then, during a morning walk, they began thinking about the wine spritzer, and how a long stretch of sobriety should afford them the ability to drink one and be done with it.

Step One: we admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable.

How do they even make wine spritzers?  Anyway, they found themselves rationalizing the ability to have a wine spritzer or a sip of beer at a party because they’d put in so much time.  They’d built up immunity.  Now that’s some crazy justification: using your sobriety as a reason to drink.

And that’s just one of the ways I try to think myself past the fact that I’m an alcoholic.  One of my favorite work-around notions is that I shall become a connoisseur.  It will no longer be about quantity; it will now be about quality.  I’ll learn fancy terms and pay attention to the aroma and discuss all the flavors and subtle notes, with dinner, and only one.  Why not two?  Well, I used to have a drinking problem, but I’ve now figured out how to only have one, with diner, on special occasions.  It’s not like I keep any in the house.  Why not?  Well, better safe than sorry, right?

But then special occasions go away, followed by dinner and only one.  And that will all be manageable, until it becomes baffling and powerful.  Right back where I started.

One thought on “the bloody cunning.

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