Plus, all the time and energy and resources wasted in thinking about alcohol, when you will drink, how much, if it is a reward, if it is a punishment, how much to keep in the house, where to dispose of the bottles so no one will know, etc. etc. UGGHHH.
I choose to believe I have a TRUE medical allergy (or whatever you want to label it) to alcohol. I can not digest alcohol like a regular person. It enters my body and all the wires are mixed up and my brain goes haywire (ie. the oven starts washing clothes and the washer starts baking bread) and before you know it I want to cash in my life savings and move to the Bahamas and just "Have a Good Time." All alone.
Knowing I have this "allergy" completely eliminates any illusion that I could become a social drinker or ever just have one drink.
If I could not just have one when I wanted to be a moderate drinker - why could I just have one now?
But every now and then that sneaky little bastard tells me - oooohhhh a nice glass of Chardonnay while you cook dinner would be okay. So as the saying goes, it will always be one day at a time.
Comment