Two weeks from today, the house will be empty of human lifeforms aside from me for the better part of a week. Part of me views that upcoming time period with joy over the freedom that presents, and another part views it with a bit of trepidation, wondering if I might go bonkers at only having cats for company. I have no meaningful social life and my quick fishing post for local ideas on social media has fallen well short of even a solitary tepid response.
I could probably just get baked and stare off into the distance — but I typically only imbibe when I am in truly intractable pain and almost always as I am heading to bed as a sleep aid when overcoming pain. Being a recovering alcoholic, I tend to avoid using the other stuff any more than absolutely needed to get by with pain management (last time there was any actual use was probably in December, to give you an idea). Yeah, I’m not a heavy user by any means. Or even regular user. It probably has to do with my history and the fact that I don’t like to imbibe when the kids are around in case I’m needed in an emergency. The appeal of getting high for getting high’s sake is limited to me.
Instead, I quite possibly should either find a new game to play or devote the time to focused writing without kid interruptions. That would be the sensible thing to do. That, however, implies I am a sensible kind of guy. Pfft.
I’ll probably read or surf. Or twiddle my thumbs trying to decide what it is that I actually want to do and end up doing nothing at all. And it’s times like those where I miss having a place to go grab a few pints or shots of Jamieson because, while I wouldn’t name any of the other regular drunks as friends, you could at least share a few laughs with people at the barstool (or with the bartenders), and get out of your own head for a while.
And I spend too much time in that place between my two ears for my own good.
I need a new distraction, a way to get out of my head.