Facebook, I’m breaking up with you.

I don’t remember exactly when we met, but you instantly brought a new dimension to my life. It was like I’d found the perfect conduit for almost anything I wanted to know, and anyone I wanted to connect with. I was in a pretty sad and lonely place when you came along,  and you listened, you gave me bits of encouragement, and you helped me to find my smile again. And I felt much better with you around. You were there to bring old friends back into my life, and you even suggested people that I might like to be introduced to. Slowly but surely, I began to think of you as my go-to for any problem, or just to relieve boredom. I know you thought that all of these things were what I wanted, and for the most part, they were. 

But there was a thought in the back of my mind, nudging me toward things that I used to enjoy. Things that enriched my life and made me the kind of person that I’d only dreamt of becoming. 

Your “helpfulness” weighed on me. Your demands for attention drained me. Sure, you had good qualities, and you still do. But the scales have tipped to the negative, somehow. 

I feel like dealing with you and your incessant need to occupy my every moment has become a larger problem than I want to admit. 

We had some good times, sure, and I appreciate your being there when I needed someone. But I’m cutting the leash. The strings that kept me tied to you are not going to manipulate me any more. I just can’t afford to spend my life keeping up with you. I have responsibilities, and I have a Power much greater than you to answer to. I want to grab ahold of what’s left of my time here. 

I’m breaking up with you, Facebook. I don’t want to see you around. I have no interest in hearing about your escapades. They no longer work for me. Don’t call me. Thanks. 

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All in how you say it

Even after a number of 24s, there are always a few remnants of the old life around. 

I remember once I had a CD I wanted to share with my pastor & her husband, especially knowing that he drove a truck cross-country, and was always looking for something good to listen to. After about 2 weeks or so, I went up to Tim and asked him if he’d gotten the CD from Trisha yet. He said “No,” and with a funny look on his face he moved closer to me and said “She’s bogarting it!” He knew it would surprise me, and it did. We had a good laugh. Tim has been clean since long before we knew them. It’s fun to share the “code language” with others, especially when most of the people standing around (think: old church folk) have no idea what’s so funny. 

There are several other words that come to mind from the Old Daze, that have continued to pop up on occasion, and it’s a strange feeling when you’re trying to explain the meaning to a non-addict. 

The thing that got me thinking about this is when I was getting a cup of coffee at the mini-mart just a while ago. 

They have out “Christmas” flavored creamers, with names like Peppermint Mocha, Chocolate Chip cookie, and Chocolate Carmel. Ordinarily I’m a French Vanilla kind of girl, but I do love me some Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, so the Peppermint Mocha caught my attention. 
I was looking forward to a delicious -different-tasting- cuppa Joe, as I started adding the sweetener and things. I put in a couple of the Peppermint Mocha creamers, but then I thought “this might be too much for this early in the day”. So I put in another two of the Regular creamers, just to be safe. 

I went to pay and mentioned the flavored creamers to the cashier & we talked with another customer about the flavors & which sounded good. Then it happened. I said that I tried the one new kind of creamer, but I “put some cut on it” with the regular creamer. 

I wonder to myself what others think when we do that. It’s like the… resin… of what once was. Or am I the only one? 

Have you had any experiences where old jargon fell out of your mouth before you realised it?  

Posted from the laundromat. Of course. 🙂

Why is this not a thing??!

Ok, so I was at the store getting some milk, and I noticed a man riding one of those electric scooters that stores sometimes provide for disabled folks.
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He cruised up to a display of wine bottles (yes, they were right by the milk. Isn’t that kinda weird?) and grabbed a couple. (I know because I heard the clinking when he put them in the basket. Don’t you judge me!)

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That’s when it hit me: why don’t LIQUOR STORES have those little electric scooters?? How fun would that be?!
They’d probably want a protective railing of some kind to protect the pretty glass bottles, but, just think of it!!
I mean, I always drove better than I walked, didn’t you?!

I wasn’t sure I should share this BRILLIANT idea with the interweb, cos you know, somebody will probably steal it. But then I figured, like so many of my other million-dollar ideas, some jerk logical thinker would shoot it down and make it look like a not-great idea. So, screw it. If you want to implement this STROKE OF FREAKIN GENIUS idea, just send me a picture of it, k? That would be thanks enough for me.
Oh, and you’re welcome.

Posted from my cabin in the mountains.

Only gotta change one thing…

Ch ch ch ch changes

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Just sayin NO

When I quit smoking cigarettes, the last time, something occurred to me that was so profound, I’ve not forgotten it, even 16 years later. I’m sure others have thought of this LONG before I did, but it’s simple truth was just tremendous at the time.

The after-dinner ciggie

I’d just finished eating, and as any smoker can tell you, the next natural step after a meal is to smoke. There are a few universally agreed upon instances where this is the case, and eating is one.
I was probably a couple of days  past my last smoke, and of course my (addict) mind was screwing with me: “You really oughta go smoke one now. It’s not like you’re using- just a cig…” and on and on. That’s when the (divinely sent, I’m sure) thought hit me. In the midst of my minds’ sales pitch on the virtues of smoking, I heard my response: “I don’t smoke anymore!”

Another moment of clarity?

It was as if a switch had been thrown. I don’t smoke, therefore, it would be absurd for me to go have a cigarette!!   I mean, as a person who DIDN’T SMOKE, why on earth would  I go outside to the smoking area, and fire up?

Recovery:1, Addict-thinking:0

That’s the day when I realised, that just like they told me in The Rooms – “You never have to drink again”, that I really never had to smoke another cigarette. Simplicity won again. Having spent a lot of time working on keeping things simple, and not over-thinking things, it was pretty easy to just stop there. I don’t smoke anymore. I’m not a smoker.

Of course, there have been instances where a cigarette seemed like an option. I’m not gonna lie. But that discussion had already been concluded. I don’t smoke.

Since putting down the drink and the chemicals (drug of choice: whatever you’ve got) over 23 years ago, I’ve certainly not made a lot of progress toward where I thought people clean for this long would be (sainthood). Some days are better than others, to be sure. But by the grace of my loving Higher Power, the battle of whether to have a ciggie is not one I have much concern about.

Thoughts?

How about you? Do you have other addictive behaviors that you may eventually want to address?
If you’re less than a year sober, it’s suggested that you don’t worry about smoking.
That leaves a hell of a lot of character defects open for discussion, though, doesn’t it?
Just take it one day at a time, friend. Easy does it, just for today. 😉

Posted from my cabin in the mountains.