…but so not what I had hoped. I cheated on Friday. The second I got home after a long day working hard on a lot of different things, my mind was on overload and not at all on the notion of “Friday night” (which for me is decompression and family time). My mood was in the dumps, for no reason other than I was depriving myself – in my mind – of something that I was very much entitled to. A drink on Friday night. So we made martinis. I like gin with olives. Not dirty, just perfectly icy and up. It was delicious. Two sips in, I was reaching for my spotify and sound bar. The kids were laughing and taking turns dancing in the kitchen. “Now, that’s a Friday night!” I proclaimed, circling around in a little jig.
Half way through it, dinner was in the works and all four personalities in the room were shining. Earlier in the week we made plans to watch the rest of Making a Murderer. We sat in front of our dinner plates in the big TV room and started in. The next hour was a blur. By the time we were onto the next episode, I was sound asleep. When I woke up at 2am on the couch, I immediately had a wave of guilt flood my body. Once I settled in my bed, I felt a faint headache and I couldn’t easily fall back asleep.
I had promised to meet my friend, Leslie, at The Dailey Method for a class at 9:15 a.m., and while I was by no means hungover, I wasn’t firing with all pistons. Sluggish, you could say. During class, I was so thirsty and was certainly not as strong as I would have liked. Afterwards, I was so aware of how I felt and I was brutally honest with myself. I need to be sober this month. Maybe longer. I am sure this won’t be the only time I consider a drink, but that one martini helped me reaffirm my pledge to a dry January.