One more day before going back to work. Spencer had a binge last night with his knucklehead friend Kip. I call him a knucklehead because his personality grates and he's a jerk for the most part, but I should thank him for taking Spencer in at his place for the evening and keeping him out of my hair while they drink. [Man, I sound like a bitch.] And since he's within walking distance I don't have to worry about Spencer driving.
I admit I had my own mini-binge while he was gone [4 or 5 beers]; and yes, I do ask myself the question, why do I deal with his alcoholism with alcohol? Legitimate question. Lame but honest answer: I want to escape for a short time. Sort of the "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" syndrome.
Sunday afternoons and evenings are usually quite pleasant around our place. I must lower myself and thank the fundys for not allowing alcohol sales on Sunday; it at least gives me a built-in respite. Actually I don't give a crap if it's Sunday or Tuesday, I just like knowing there's one day we're 99% in the clear.
Must dash, still work to do around the house; and maybe a chance to chat with Cary ;O)
--Pym
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