But we can make time go an awful lot slower - at least, those of us who admit to being heavy drinkers can, by quitting.
After 20-plus years of drinking regularly, spectacularly and erratically, I have stopped. It is a sudden jolt to the system and a major adjustment to my life.
Those who know me will simply dismiss this entire article when they read that I am only nine days in to my new life of quiet sobriety. They 'know' that I'll be back on the booze sometime soon. And in all conscience, I can't say they are wrong.
I'm not doing it to lose the few pounds of cheese and red meat I doubtless put on over a most enjoyable Christmas, spent with my kids, my wife, from whom I separated three years ago, and her parents. It was, by far, the best Christmas since I left the marital home more than three years ago - and I enjoyed every mouthful I ate or drank, with no regrets at all.
In fact, I have made no resolutions to exercise, and eat rubbish whenever I please. The desire for treats accompanies the withdrawal from alcohol as the bods craves the sweet calories it used to be given in some abundance.
I am not doing it so save money, although I'll pause here: I have estimated that I spent in excess of £6,000 on alcohol last year.
My usual tipple is - sorry, was - real ale, at around £3.40 a pint. A real ale drinker taking an average of one pint a day would spend £1,241 a year. I didn't drink every day, but on the days I did, five pints was a minor session for me. I reckon £6,000 is not an unreasonable estimate of my own spending on alcohol.
So if I was doing it to save money, I'd no doubt see the difference in my bank balance fairly soon. When I tell people that a pint a day is £1,200 a year, they often doubt me until I produce my calculator and prove the point. The blanched faces I have left in my wake. It's an incredible incentive to quit, and people underestimate it hugely. The rate of beer price inflation overtakes perceptions of reality.
I'm doing it to change my life. I was slowly but surely starting to lose focus on my work, and it was affecting my 'relationship'.
Already, I am sleeping better, making better plans and thinking straighter. My short-term memory remains embarrassingly poor, but 'twas ever thus in my case.
I have managed to avoid 'hotspots' of temptation. I met a friend in the pub yesterday but had already arranged another appointment to start within an hour of my arrival. I ordered a lime and soda, drank it and left. Tonight I am going to White Hart Lane. I usually drink three to several pints before a game, allowing plenty of time to hit the pub before the game. Tonight I plan to arrive in Tottenham about 6.30pm, leaving just enough time to have a quick chat with fellow supporters before kick off at 7.45pm.
This give me another couple of hours in Brighton to actually do some work.
The journey to the Lane and back will fill a lot of hours I might otherwise have spent drinking - at home, or in the pub - although midweek sessions were always a rarity anyway.
But Spurs don't play every day. The sheer number of hours I spent drinking need to be filled in other ways, and so far I have very few ideas on how to fill them. I'd like to start going to meetings I used to go to but stopped going to, maybe visit the cinema once a week...after all, I'll have the money now.
But I know, because it's happened already, that there will be some evenings - or even weekend afternoons (especially when the footy's on telly) when I just haven't planned anything, there's nothing on the telly and I don't feel like reading a book or writing and I can't go to the pub because I don't drink any more. It's then that it gets you - I used to love going into a new pub and talking to the bar staff or the regulars. I nearly always end up in such situations sitting next to an Arsenal or Chelsea fan. So often did this happen that I can now spot them before they open their mouths. It's a gift, what can I say?
There is plenty to do of an evening, but most of it isn't stuff I enjoy doing - I'm not a DIY person - and there has to be some pleasure in life, right? So far, I'm telling myself that being bored is not the worst thing in the world - that nothing bad is happening, just nothing particularly good.
But I guess the effect is cumulative. Nine days ago seems like aeons, yet weeks would pass like speeding cars when I was drinking. One day, like the belly in the old Nike ad, the grey cloud of boredom will catch up with me - unless I find something to fill the time.
Maybe I should have thought of that before I stopped drinking!
No comments:
Post a Comment