“the little woman”

Well that was interesting....

I'm at my hotel in Sticksville and I was just downstairs having breakfast. As I bussed my dishes I said Hi to a woman who works here whom I have always seen every time I stay here. I don't know what her job is — maybe some kind of daytime manager? — but she's clearly a longtime employee and she is always tidying the breakfast area on weekday mornings.

Her name tag says her name is Dawn, but it didn't remember that from earlier visits. But I absolutely remember her face and we generally wave and chitchat.

Anyway Dawn said Hi back, and then remarked, "It's been a while now since I've seen the little woman here with you." And I had to stop and think ... Huh? Who? What "little woman"?

Finally I figured out that the only woman with whom I ever had breakfast there was Hil, back when we were working together. So I explained that Hil had transferred to another department and didn't do projects in America any more, I told a funny story or two, and went on my way.

But I have to wonder ... is that how we looked from the outside? I'm used to the phrase "the little woman" as a synonym for "wife". And I can imagine it used when someone isn't quite sure of the nature of the relationship. (This is a hotel, after all! They must get a disproportionate number of couples without benefit of matrimony.) The thing is, I can absolutely guarantee we never touched and there were never any verbal endearments. We talked about work, or about her girls, or about her shopping. (Ugh. Her shopping!) Maybe once in a long while about my boys. But that's it. Period.

And still Dawn thought it made sense to inquire in a roundabout way about "the little woman". It's strange.

Maybe Dawn has an overheated imagination. Or maybe my manner towards Hil was more courtly than I realized. Maybe we got along casually enough that Dawn just assumed we had to be closer than just colleagues.

Maybe a lot of things. I have no idea.



Sent from my iPhone

Exhausted, 2

I think I figured it out, thanks to Google. I'm not exactly happy with the answer. 

See, the days earlier this week when I was so wiped out were days where, the night before, I'd had no alcohol to drink. Absolutely none. After the second such day, Son 1 (who lives with me) wondered aloud whether my hitherto regular nightcaps were causing my exhaustion by interfering with my sleep, because he had recently read (surprise!) that alcohol can interfere with sleep. 

I said no, I didn't think there was a correlation, because I knew that the days when it was worst were days before which I had drunk nothing at all; and in fact I was already forming the opposite hypothesis. Thus for a couple nights I tried drinking the way I used to, ... and the next days I had more energy again!

Tonight I googled the combination of feeling exhausted while not drinking, and I discovered this is a well-known "thing." Several websites aimed at the newly-sober explained that it is common for people who have first given up alcohol to feel exhausted, unfocused, and disoriented for several weeks after their last drink! But they go on to say it's all worth it, because after that time is over they have so much more energy than before, and besides it's great to wake up every day without a hangover.

All of which is great.

Only ... what about those of us who don't wake up with hangovers? What about people (like me) who are used to drinking every day, but not so much that it causes a problem in our daily lives? It sounds like we have habituated our bodies to a certain amount of alcohol daily, so that we will suffer if we get less. Even though alcohol is a poison. But we don't experience it as a poison because mostly we don't drink that much at a time. 

"Habituated" sounds bad, only we don't get the satisfaction other habitués get, of knowing it's the right way to go.

If alcohol isn't really disrupting my life, is it worth it to go without? Just for the bare, abstract name of "sobriety"? 

Or should I just skip it all and go back to drinking?

Sent from my iPhone

Exhausted

I am exhausted. This is at least two days in a row. I didn't go to Sangha last night because I just wanted to go home and go to bed. I could no longer focus on anything. And it's the same today. I tried to get a nap at noon but I was in my car — a black car in the sun, which meant I was baking. I don't know if I dozed or not. But it's as if I really have to have a nap during the day, more or less regardless how much sleep I get at night or how much coffee I drink. (I'm going to have trouble giving it all up on Friday for my flight on Sunday.) Or is it the coffee itself that is making me so tired? Sounds counterintuitive, but I've wondered about that before. In general it seems like the times of my life when I drink a lot of coffee are the times I have the most trouble with feeling exhausted. Maybe there's a connection.

Or maybe I'm just imagining the link. I guess that's always possible.

A talking vulva

Browsing the news on my phone, I found this article. It amused me, so I sent it to Marie.

Fragment of 'The Rose Thorn,' a Poem About a Talking Vulva, Dated to the 1300s

I thought it was mildly amusing, and left it at that. But Marie responded not long after, as follows:

Dearest, if you're going to distract me from my evening, by all means do it well.

 

A medieval poem about a talking vulva???

 

And now, of course, you've got me engrossed in conversation with my cunt about which of US two you appreciate more. 

 

And, of course, the converse: which most appreciates and misses YOU (and your penis and your fingers and that long, talented, tongue of yours, which both laps my clit and spins out involved and filthy fantasies...).

 

Erp.

 

Maybe I'll adjourn to bed, if not immediately to sleep!

 

Thanks for your contribution to my evening, love!

 

 

Always your Marie.

    

A dry week

I'm on my ... second? third? ... glass of whiskey tonight, depending on how you count, but for most of this week I've had no alcohol to drink. It's been interesting.

Some time after Son 1 moved in, I started paying attention to how much I was drinking. At first I didn't, because he'd have a beer or two with dinner and I'd have beer or wine, and who cared? But if we were out of beer he didn't want wine. After dinner he might have whiskey but often not and never any other spirits. And even when he wasn't drinking, I was.

Also I noticed that I had been exercising more regularly than this spring (when I was traveling so much for work) but my weight was pretty constant. Of course there are a lot of calories in alcohol. And when I get drunk, I eat more.

So when I went to the store over the weekend I deliberately didn't buy any more wine -- one six-pack of beer for Son 1, but no more. I drank water or juice with dinner. And I noticed a few changes, as a result.

On the positive side, I lost weight this week -- only a few pounds, but it was measurable and steady.

On the negative side ... well.

I went to bed earlier and earlier -- by 8:00 or even before. Yes, I was getting up at 5:00 so I could go to the gym before work ... so I guess you could argue that going to bed at 8:00 wasn't crazy early. But it was still early. And while in the first half of the day I'd feel a glow of strength and energy, after lunch I would want nothing in the world but a nap. That exhaustion would last all afternoon. I would be exhausted by the time I got home. I'd have almost no interest in dinner, maybe just a piece of bread with peanut butter -- and this was doubtless part of why I was losing weight. So in some ways the alcohol was acting for me as a stimulant.

It acted also as a (social) lubricant. Without it, I found myself wanting to spend less and less time with Son 1. If I wasn't drinking, I felt shy, like I wanted to retreat into my bedroom as soon as possible. This was another reason that I went to bed so early ... that it took me away from his company. It let me hide. Way back in the last days of living with Wife it was the same: if I was sober, I was always on edge and wanted to escape; but if I was drunk I could laugh and joke and be sociable. Is that what is going on here? Do I really need to get Son 1 out of my space the same way I needed to move away from Wife? Or is the seeming similarity just a coincidence?

I don't know.

Today while I was at work, Marie texted me to tell me to do something fun tonight. I replied with an email as follows:

Hey love,

You texted me to do something fun tonight, but I’m not quite sure what would count as fun. I’m kind of getting into this concept of going to bed really early, but I guess that’s not what you have in mind.

My neighbors are hosting a big shindig tomorrow night, but I’m not sure about going. I always feel like death warmed over for at least the next 24 hours afterwards. 

My girlfriend [this means Marie herself, of course!] is not in town, so that kind of lets out planning for lots of energetic sex. (Besides, I share an apartment with my son!) Of course there are three colleges in town, so maybe I should look for a cute undergraduate with spiky hair [Marie has sometimes fantasized about us finding a girl with spiky hair to join us] and then tell my girlfriend all the steamy details afterwards. (Not sure if that would make you feel hurt, angry, jealous, or incredibly aroused — or possibly all four at once!) And as we all know, cute undergraduates with spiky hair are famous for getting excited by pudgy, graying, terminally square guys in their late 50’s, especially when those guys live in dingy apartments and don’t flash lots of disposable cash; so obviously this last plan is a really pragmatic one. 

I’m kind of running out of ideas here. Going to bed early is sounding better and better.

Love you,
Your Hosea

I was trying to be funny. But in the absence of alcohol, I really was feeling like I couldn't think of anything more fun than going to bed early.

Her reply picked up mostly on the funny bits. But in and around the funny bits, I think she heard a little bit of what was going on with me, if not the whole thing. Among other things, she wrote:

 It does seem a while since you've talked about art walks or gallery openings or weird little shows you went to.  When we were first involved it seemed like you went to SOMETHING just about every week.  Are you okay physically? You've seemed tired a lot since our return from New Zealand.

I'm not sure how much I want to explain. Any explanation involving alcohol sounds like a bad thing ... and like it would cause alarm. Or do I just tell her the truth?

Maybe she's asking about more than just the last week. And in that case ... what is the truth?

I don't know. I hope it's not something really bad.