Not a “Secret” to Go to AA
Here I am, drinking in my local pub, and an older (and very sweet) man and I went for a cigarette. We’ve had many great discussions about so many things in life.
I asked him, “Could you keep this under your had?” while I played with the hat he was actually wearing.
He said, “What?” as I kept pointing to the inside of the pub.
Anxious response: “Just between you and me?”
“Sure! Anything!” he nearly shouted.
Well, shouted as an old man who might be able to shout. One who had a voice like road construction going on in his lungs from smoking three packs of cigarettes a day–although he didn’t–not that many.
And who am I to judge? I always end up smoking when I drink too. I’m seeing my Respirologist on Wednesday. Uh, okay…
I told him that I was going to start attending AA Meetings.
Well, throw my Alcoholic Ass through the pub window! He’d been going for years to AA (with relapses.) The same place too! It’s within walking distance from where I live as well. Uber-bonus.
I’m not sure when I’ll start. I’m not making an excuse for not starting. My empty schedule has now become so unwickedly busy again. I have to balance appointments here and there, where and when…
I write it all on this calender I’ve stabbed on my closet door with a pushpin.
NOTE: Stabby, Stabby feels good!!!
It’s completely multi-coloured by huge, permanent ink markers where I’ve written things. Then, I have to colour over something else with another colour. It’s a total mess. It’s bleeding through all the paper as well.
Whatever. I have bigger worries. I guess I sometimes worry if I can read my calender.
Hang on. That is a big worry. My mobile! But having it in working order is a HUGE WORRY.