The Great Alchies

This past weekend can be summed up in two words -Turkey and alcohol. It was a great weekend, but I came home, looked in the mirror at my dark circles and puffy eyelids and didn’t recognize myself.  This month has been busier than most and my tendancy to reach for a glass of wine to calm down def increased.  Drinking can make you look older (two more words-Kim Zolciak-I do NOT need that) and run you down.  I think its time for a little detox.

I know I drink a lot.  I do.  Right now there is a six pack of corona and 2 bottles of wine in the fridge, plus an open bottle of red on the counter.  Those are just the reserves.  I’m out a good three times a week with friends and I am moving through wine, beer, and Campari like its free.  It’s not!  I enjoy a good drink, and that enjoyment spills over into food, wine, atmosphere…my credit card.  The problem is I don’t get drunk, so I don’t usually monitor my intake.  And I hate to admit this, but as a writer, I don’t mind thinking that enjoying a drink or two, or ten, may be a sign of greatness.  Ha!  But seriously, Some of the best writers were alchies-  Hemingway, Kerouac, Faulkner, Poe, Fitzgerald, and…Dorthy Parker. Unfortunately, they were also depressive and suicidal…and poe was rumored to be a pedophile.  Yikes!  I like the company I keep and I like drinking, but I have a responsibility to keep myself in good condition.  I can be great too, and I will be, with a little monitoring, a little more water in between drinks, and a little more me time.

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