The Scene

It’s Tuesday morning – 8:25 am to be exact. Sunday night, after the usual two beers for Joel and my podcast, I decided this would be a sober week. Three reasons: to lose a pound or two, to reset my tolerance, and to rest my liver. This week, concluding with my first Civil War reenactment of the season, I will abstain from alcohol, tobacco, and other cravings. I don’t partake in enormous quantities of these substances, but I haven’t taken a break in a while. I expect to have a beer or two this weekend around the campfire. But in the meantime, this week will be an exercise in restraint. Moreover, I discovered yesterday that the desire to drink kills productivity before I even sip a beverage. So, there should be bonuses to my previous three reasons.

Day One Reflections

On day one, yesterday, I spent the afternoon alone in my apartment. I had no desire to drink, no urge to hang with anyone else. I enjoyed my own company. After dropping my bag off at the table and removing my knee brace, I sat at my writing desk. The writing desk sits in my bedroom. It’s different from my video editing/video game/screen desk. The writing desk is purely analogue. No screens or devices allowed. 

Sitting at the desk, I noticed a sharper attention to detail. A fuller spectrum of appreciation for the space I occupy. The trouble with my analogue desk is that it serves many purposes: journaling, reading, Napoleonic miniatures painting (which I haven’t done in a year), letter writing. As a writer, I’ve gathered hordes of paper, pens, and post-its that rarely get used. So I spent an hour setting it up for success. 

I removed the bright pink bin that housed small post its and index cards – too flashy. I set my current book A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara on top of the printer paper. There’s still work to be done, but I (for once) relished cleaning up a bit.

 With the desk cleared, I took a moment to ground myself. The window was partially open in hopes for a breeze. The annoying hum of the generator was my reward. I closed the window, doomed to rely on the more comforting white noise of the ac fan. I glanced up at my blank wall, a canvas to be painted with pictures of family, favorite traveled places, and maybe some fine art. I sketched out a rough idea, although I’m not sure I want all those faces in my bedroom. Perhaps in the living room.

For an hour, I read A Little Life, slipping into New York City alongside the foursome: Malcolm, JB, Willem, and Jude. Mostly Jude and Willem—they’re the ones who hold my attention, the best friends within the group. Aside from the constant AC buzzing and the occasional page turn, my apartment was silent. It was nice. 

Throughout the evening, I was quite content to be in my space. I didn’t want to mix with others. Without food in the fridge or cabinets, I had to visit the cafeteria. I sat alone with my plate. And then people joined me. I didn’t hold it against them; perhaps they wanted company. We chatted briefly about bagels and summer activities. No offense to them, but I anticipated returning to my apartment. Normally, I’d indulge in something at this point – a beer or edible. But I didn’t. I moved some things around, thought more about what I could get rid of. And that was all day one.

Tuesday Cravings

As I write this on Tuesday afternoon, I’ll admit: I wouldn’t mind a beer. I’ll fill the void with water. But I can feel that the desire to drink is limiting my productivity. My words require more effort and brain power to produce. I could dismiss the desire by keeping my mind busy, spending time with others, or engaging in some activity. When that activity is writing, though, a space opens up. That’s what writing does: it opens up space in the mind. I’ll have to find other dopamine hits to keep the desire back, something like write for 20 minutes more, and then I can have a spoonful of peanut butter. If I can ignore the two beers in my fridge, that’s a win this week.

This post will go live Wednesday morning. I’ll be about halfway through the week. It’s not even a full week, so I wouldn’t call it a challenge. But if I lose a pound, lower my tolerance, and enjoy a few clearer thoughts, that’s a win. I’m not giving up drinking or the pipe forever, just hitting pause. Maybe I’ll keep the pipe to reenactments, the beer to weekends. Then again, summer’s just around the corner…