Crap, It’s Too Late to Drink


October 12th, 2013 10:49 PM -05

Remember in college when you didn’t go out until after 10:00pm?

Yeah… 17 years a little over a decade later, my mantra is “No wine after nine.”  With bedtime at 11:00pm, drinking after neuf heure is a non-non.  If I do, it’s hard to fall asleep and harder to stay asleep.

I miss those days when I could drink until 2:00am, sleep late, scarf greasy carbs and go about my day unscathed.   I remember one particular Big Easy excursion when my then 105-lb self consumed a Hand Grenade, multiple Hurricanes and a Big Ass Beer (yes, the actual name on the cup) and still was up at 10:00 the next morning for breakfast.   No hangover whatsoever.   What’s more crazy?  I followed that breakfast with an 8 hour drive to Ft. Worth.

Now, if I so much as think about a second drink, I can guarantee two things:   the kiddo will awake before dawn and no amount of ibuprofen, coffee or syrup-covered waffles will lessen the pain.   If I’m going to drink, it has to be minimal and with forethought.

So tonight, I opted for a margarita.  Kind of.  I prepped a Bud Light Lime-A-Rita (in a klassy kan) and a large glass of crushed ice right before heading upstairs to start kiddo’s bedtime routine.  I wanted it waiting for me the second I came downstairs.   I grabbed the baby monitor, a hockey puck (my attempt at chocolate chip cookie baking), the pre-manufactured beerita and headed for the couch.   I placed it on the coffee table while I briefly attended to some work and garage-sale tasks.

Two hours later…  I’d taken all of 2 sips and was well into the no-booze zone.

The 20 year old me would point out this isn’t an issue.   The rule is no wine after nine   And a margarita-beer hybrid is the farthest thing from grape goodness!  Drank ON!

Hmpfh.   If only I could teleport my 20 year old self into the present.

That way, I could drink the night away while dispensing a litany of advice (Moisturize, damnit!  Do not take your Contracts final when sick.  Don’t paint the walls Cappuccino.  Never (allegedly) mention any one year cohabitation before marriage rule with Dan).   I’d tell her stories about her life.  She’d look at me like I were freakin’ crazy.

And then we’d go to sleep.  She’d awake bright and chipper to babysit.

I’d set my alarm for the first time in two years.

I wouldn’t want to miss wine before nine.

 

Leave a Reply