So, I had a hiccup. I got through Friday night just fine without drinking. Actually, it was a good win. We had dinner plans with Brandon & Jennifer, a couple we rarely see anymore. We went to a Mexican restaurant, and while everyone else ordered house margaritas, I stuck to my guns and ordered a club soda and cranberry. Even when a second round arrived, I just drank water. Once we were done eating, we walked over to a little rooftop bar, and I asked the bartender to surprise me with a “mocktail.” It was good! As our group sat outside, overlooking the quaint Main Street of old Elkhorn–the breeze stirring our hair, the white decorative lights sparkling in the trees–I felt at ease. Which really surprised me. I wasn’t missing the alcohol all that much. I was proud of myself. I was looking forward to going to bed, knowing that I would get decent sleep and wouldn’t feel like crap the next morning.
Then, Saturday hit.
The day started off fine. Great, even. I had my spa package from 9:00 AM to 12:15 PM (one that I’d been holding on to since Mother’s Day). It was sooooooooo relaxing. Afterwards, Robert and I took the kids to Tiburon Pool, along with two of their friends. We spent the next 2 1/2 hours laying in the sun, swimming, watching the kids jump off the diving board, etc. But when we got home, I KNEW I was going to fix myself a vodka Red Bull while I got ready for dinner. I just knew it. And sure as hell, I did. I had the one drink, then we left the house to meet my mother-in-law for a bite out at a burger joint that serves my favorite Long Island Iced Tea in town. So yep, I ordered the drink. Once we returned home, I had one more weaker cocktail while we watched a movie in the basement.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Of course. I woke up around 4:00 AM and didn’t really drift off again. My head was pounding, my stomach was rolling, I was dehydrated like no one else’s business. And true to form, I was thoroughly pissed at myself. The dry streak I’d been working on all week had gone by the wayside. I thought about how my Sober Sis group would all be on Day 6 this day, and I debated the pros and cons of telling them about my slip-up. In the end, I decided I would mark it down to a data point, like Annie Grace said to do. So, as I laid there unable to sleep, I relived my night before and asked myself if it was worth it. I could tell I wouldn’t be of any use this whole day on Sunday. I was hungover; I had no energy. A nap would definitely be on the books. And yet, I had planned to get a lot of stuff done around the house, get the kids ready to start school this coming week. Spending time with my family, with anyone really, would not be high on my list. I would want to hunker down and nurse myself back to health for most of the day.
So nope, not worth it.
But I didn’t drink at all on Sunday. And I will NOT drink tonight (Monday). My data point has come and gone, and I’m continuing on with my reset.
I’m facing forward.