Good Morning

I would wake up in that cold stinking sweat, with the sheets that aren’t exactly wet, but they aren’t dry either, just heavy with stink.  Step into the shower, and if I shower for too long I’d throw up in there, right in the shower. Which I actually preferred because I didn’t have to clean it up, just press any undigested food down the drain with my toes, and anyway, the trashcan next to my bed is already full of vomit from …? Was it yesterday? Or the day before? And the bathmats in front of the toilet are stained with orange splotches of throw up that I’ve never tried to clean, so I don't like kneeling on them in front of the pot for half an hour on my Tuesday morning.  

Then get out of the shower and throw up if I didn’t do it in the shower already. For some reason, I started wrapping myself in that one particular towel and I wouldn’t get back in bed because I didn’t want to sleep, I wanted to go to work, but obviously, I couldn’t. Wrapped in a towel lying on the unvacuumed carpet waiting to feel better. I’d be cold and beaded with sweat, press my forehead into the carpet. Wipe my temples down with the towel or the carpet or whatever felt right.  

Then after retching, I’d decide I couldn’t stand it any longer and go for the whiskey, mixed with coke, always mixed. One full tumbler wasn’t enough, two full glasses, half whiskey half coke, was the right amount, but it took me a few miserable mornings of trial and error to figure that out. Drink one and I'd end up waiting far too long before knowing it's not enough, then taking the second drink and rolling into work between 10 and 11 AM, and a few more mornings of trying three around 8 AM and then skipping work to sing by myself in my room, paying girls on MFC to play naked charades or flip me off and be smashed again by 3 PM.  By then… well fuck it, passed out drunk again by 4 or 5 PM, catch a few hours of sleep while my roommates come home and watch a movie or hang out in the living room.

After that, I'd sneak out of my room and grab another bottle from my stash in the kitchen, take the whole handle back into my room. Continue drinking, this time quicker, with a purpose, until I passed out again and then wake up shaking, with somehow more vomit in the trash can at my bedside, or was it always that full? Why doesn’t it stink anymore? Look inside, god fucking dammit! It does stink. Just go throw up in the shower and get it over with already, take 2 glassfuls this time.  Fill a few Gatorade bottles in the car, half with vodka half with Gatorade, and the Yeti thermos also, half and half, in the driver's cup holder.

Drive to work feeling light-headed, concentrating on how my eyes feel, knowing I shouldn’t be drunk driving on my way into work. Get there, avoid eye contact, stay at least a few feet away from everyone so they won’t smell my sweat. Can I hold down an egg sausage sandwich from the cafe? No, stick with the bread, just a plain bagel.

Check my work calendar for any meetings I have scheduled, If I have a meeting I'll need to have had just a few. I can’t go into a meeting if I might start sweating and shaking.  So if there’s a meeting at 11 AM I'd go sit in my Jeep at about 10:15 and drink in the parking lot for 10 minutes with the air conditioner running. If the meetings at 1PM I’d make sure to have at least half a Gatorade bottle at lunch, but not too much, was that too much? Will I be visibly intoxicated?

Sitting in a meeting looking around, absolutely shocked at how good I feel, I feel totally normal. Am I slurring or speaking clearly? I can’t tell from anyone’s expressions, they are reacting normally, I must sound fine, I can’t look fine, but maybe my new normal looks this hungover?

Another day's done and nobody said anything, that counts as a success. Stop at the mini-mart on the way home and get another handle of whiskey, and more vodka for the car, get home and I can finally relax, just drink what I want for a few hours.