Failure is in the Eye of the Beholder

"When this 30 days is over, I'm going right back to smoking."

"No you are not," says Bingo, "you promised me you'd quit."

Bingo isn't like that, no she's not. But she knows it's killing me and she tries to be supportive. Go back to drinking if you like but you have to quit smoking. It's awful for you. That's what she tells me.

Bingo put up with my rages and tantrums through two weeks off of coffee, alcohol and cigarettes.

 

 

Day 15 she became a bit suicidal from her own troubles and we needed to eat mushrooms to sort things out. Day 15 of 30. Halftime we declared. The "Ides of Sobriety". We ate mushrooms and mushrooms said it was ok to smoke and drink tonite. Enjoy yourselves. "Abstinence is silly," says the mushrooms and they are correct.

 

Day 16 I felt fantastic and that day and the next I was back on the original course. Today - Day 18 - came the inevitable "fuck it" and I had the Sunday paper with a decaf and a pack of smokes as your God intended it.

I feel no guilt. I feel pretty good. The days of sobriety proved pointless. My short term memory still leaked like bird shot. My productivity and creativity flatlined. I felt a bit better physically but was eating at a Brando's pace. And I was bored. Fat girl weekends eating ice cream on the couch watching another George Clooney vehicle. Bored and boring. 30 days was just a round number.

 

Today we ate more mushrooms and enjoyed my vices and losing football propositions. It's good to love an underdog until your heart plays the books.

Bingo is ok with it all.

Bingo is still a pillar of strength.

Bingo started smoking again after 4 years.

I think I might be the devil.