Image via Metro Jacksonville
I'm a day behind on this post. Yesterday was definitely a stay in and hibernate kind of day...not that I did that. The morning started with a meeting at 11 - my 9th meeting of the week. I feel like with this past week of meetings, I've finally stopped fucking around, and started doing what I need to do: calling people when I've been triggered going to meetings, filling up my time, being around people when I'm lonely, going to bed and/or resting when I'm tired. Not giving into only habits.
Saturday was probably my longest day. I went to 3 separate meetings: one at 8, one at 2 and the last one at 8. (The 8pm meeting was in the park pictured above, in the building shown on the extreme right edge of the image.) Oddly enough, once I got home, I had thought about and listened to people talk about drinking so much that I struggled to stay home and not drink.
In retrospect, it was a quite funny five minutes of me standing in my apartment. I keep my money in a drawer, and I would open the drawer, stare at the $20 bill that was trying to "seduce" me, then close the drawer, then open it again, then close it again, then open it again. And it sounds funny, but my lack of just being about to take my shoes off and my jacket and just pick up a book, start a movie, stay in one spot, at the time, was frightening. Frightening in that it is so common currently - a path that it is so fucking difficult to see, if not the end of, at least a fork or a curve. A bend.
But eventually, I got my shoes off and my jacket. I got in bed - my cats curled up around me and I spent the next hour with Diana Wynne Jones's Howl's Moving Castle before going to bed.
The fear extended itself to the morning, but rather than fear, it was helplessness and a certainty that most likely I'd always be alone. This translated itself to my Facebook status: if I can't be 6ft of modelly muscle, can I at least be Doctor Who hot?
Now, it's Monday morning, and I still haven't drank. Though I could go for a hot chocolate.