I had too much caffeine yesterday. I guess it comes with the territory of working at Java's and getting REAL free refills (without actually having to hide your mug in the bushes and have somebody else sneak in and refill it for you so as not to be caught). And so at midnight last night, I was exhausted and hyper. Very, very bad combination.
And so I finished off the last of the alcohol in the house...
Okay, come on, it wasn't that much -- it was like, three-quarters of a shot. Embarrassingly enough, three-quarters of a shot is enough to make me feel very warm and very sleepy.
I promised myself I wasn't going to do that anymore: live my life chemically. Not that there's anything wrong with drinking, and I suppose I'd probably do it more often if I had the means (ie, fake ID and money), but I don't like knowing I use it to force my body to do things it doesn't WANT to do, ie, go to sleep.
Besides, I didn't even MIX it with anything. ...I mean, I was GOING to, I swear; I was going to make myself a latté, Helena-style (ie, the hard way, with a wire whisk, an electric stove, and some really bitter decaf coffee) and mix it with that, but I'd cleaned the refrigerator and thrown out the last of the milk because it was about a thousand years old. But no -- no milk, no latté, nothing to mix my alcohol with. So, fuck it, I didn't bother mixing it with anything. At least I managed to find a shot glass instead of drinking it out of the bottle. See mom, I'm NOT an alcoholic!
Peter came over last night. He stood in the dining room watching me -- and my frantic search for a milk-substitute that didn't have an overdose-warning on the side -- with this half-affectionate, half-pissed-off look on his face, like he kind of wanted to slap me and hug me at the same time. I know that look very, very well.
I stopped drinking like that when I moved to Santa Fe. I mean, drinking to sleep, drinking to be happy, drinking to chill out... In Santa Fe, I even stopped doing the wake-up-and-smile coffee thing. Previous to that, I was well on my way to becoming a disaster. Two cups of Folgers every morning (ew), couple of drinks around midafternoon to calm myself down, couple more drinks in the evening to give me reason to live or whatever, and then maybe a little something to help me get back to sleep. Then I'd start over. I don't want to do that anymore.
But fuck it...
But I DID want to do it last night. Maybe it had something to do with Peter giving me that look. As a matter of fact, supposing Jeff and his boyfriend had left anything ELSE in the house, I probably would have gone to Java's this morning partly hung-over. So I made an excuse...
You know why you ought to have this wee drinky and fall asleep, Helena? You ought to have this wee drinky, and you ought not even use a shot glass, because you've not been bothering to think about your New Year's Resolutions, and you might as well just go to hell, and while you're there, you might as well have yourself a little drinky and have yourself a little nap.
Okay, lame excuse. Whatever.
It was three-quarters of a shot. I really don't need to justify three-quarters of a shot.
Well, yes I do...
I made several New Year's resolutions, actually. I don't even remember them all. Guess I probably haven't done very good, enh?
I resolved to stop freaking over little things. I resolved to somehow find a way to become more in control of my body and my hormones so that once a month I don't go on this "must-kill-people" kick. I resolved to think about God/Goddess/Higher Power some more, because I'm tired of not knowing what I believe and not knowing what I WANT to believe. I resolved never to give the Java Crew any reason to kick me out of Java's, ever again. I resolved to be happier. And most importantly, I resolved to stop living in other people's shadows: caring so deeply for somebody that I become a tag-along and forget all about what I HAD been doing and thinking and believing and wanting, because being what somebody else wants is easier. I've always kind of done that. Mademoiselle magazine encourages stuff like that: If you see he's reading a book, find out what it is and read it and find a ton of good things you can say about it, and strike up a convo! But I'm too strong a person for that bullshit. And so I wanted to find where my strengths lie, and kind of fall in love with myself, nurture THAT for awhile, instead of somebody else's ego or habits.
...I don't always know who I am. It's easiest, when you don't know who you are, to say, "I work at Java's, I live on the wes'side, my friends are, dot-dot-dot, and I'm in love with, dot-dot-dot..." My New Year's resolution was to define myself in terms of MYSELF, not in terms of my job, or my place of residence, or my friends, lovers, or whatever... Honestly, I believe that following up on that resolution will make me a MUCH happier person. I'll feel more like I deserve respect; I'll be more proud of myself.
But I haven't been following those resolutions to the letter. I've been meeting people and saying, "do you know so-and-so? I'm friends with them." I've been using other people's lines to make impressions. I've been... not quite myself. Not quite a bad person, not an uninteresting person or a pathetic copycat, but not quite me... And I'm really kind of disappointed.
So I decided that, well, hell, I'm a complete and utter fuck-up anyway; might as well get some sleep while I'm at it.
And so I did. With a little help from my friend...
I fell asleep about twenty minutes after ingesting my lovely little three-quarters of a shot. It would have been better with a latté. But taste wasn't really the point of drinking it, now was it?
I woke up next to Peter in the morning. I'd sort of forgotten he was over. I'd sort of forgotten why he'd come over. I'd been kind of preoccupied with trying to go to sleep. So I scrawled a semi-incoherent entry in my super-secret new journal, and decided to renew my resolution...
I'm me, god-dammit, and I'm not going to be like anybody else unless I -- I, Helena Thomas, (or whatever) -- am really, honestly just LIKE somebody else just by accident. I'm just gonna be me.
...And not have so many refills of the hazelnut next time...
~Helena*
"...'Cause it's me... And my life..." --Dido