hyenahell

sometimes my friend april will come home after work with my boyfriend (they both work at the same art camp) and bring beer. we're both printmakiers, so we'll sit around and talk shop while he watches PSI, drink beer and they'll smoke some. she usually leaves me the leftover beer- a bottle or two, you know.

i don't keep beer in the house. i don't keep any alcohol in the house. why, you ask? because i drink that shit the way most people drink water. i drink it like it's gonna save my life. and then i want more.

so i'm on my second leftover beer. aproximately three minutes after i popped the cap on the first one. there are no leftover beers remaining.

which is why, at seven-thirty in the morning, i'm seriously entertaining the thought of hopping on my newly-fixed bike and going to miss mae's. or igor's. or any place that serves alcohol at this hour.

fuck.

i hate addiction.

i mean, nothing's compelling me to drink, really. i work in a damn bar and i'm able to stay sober 98% of the time. and i've come a long fucking way, i know. hell, as long as i'm not pouring bourbon into my cereal every morning or getting the shakes when i've gone a day or so without, i'm doing great. i just hate wanting it. thinking that i need it. i hate watching other people do whatever it is that they do and knowing that i can't indulge myself in the same way because i will let it ruin my life. because i can't control myself. because something in my genes or some imbalance in my brain or whatever makes me different.

anyway.

good morning!