I started to just send an email to those few who might be affected, but I realized that my cc: list wouldn’t hold all the names.

This full moon has me just absolutely clawing at the ceilings. I can’t stay inside. I can’t stay in one place. I’m as restless as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

Earlier today, I was not just restless, I was also dissatisfied and more than a little cranky with people just trying to do their job but not in the way I wanted ‘em to. Something happened this afternoon whiling away an hour over ice tea at Flip’s with the Oz that smoothed me out a good bit, but tonight, I’ve been driving around with the top down, can’t stay any one place longer than about 20-30 minutes, no matter how congenial the company.

I knew I was in a fragile place when, sitting next to Ron at Isis, I watched MindOverMary’s favorite guilty pleasure pour a Crown and Coke and freaked. Now, I never drank those things when I was drinking and they seem far too sweet for my taste. If I were to order one, it would be for a certain type of woman (one who drinks mixed drinks, for one thing) and I’d have them garnish it with a marischino cherry, sort of like a cordial. (It’s those little touches that make me the man-about-town that I’m reputed to be.) This C&C looked good to me. Go figure. Sober all these years, not much going on in my life and I’m sitting at a familiar bar with familiar people, having a good time and the disease slaps my ass. I’d wanted to go down to the other end of the bar and flirt with a certain blonde who is leaving soon for Italy. Instead, I just hoisted my old, white, wrinkled ass right out of the way of harm. Took me 12 years to learn that.

I thought I might take a tour of the magnificant mile of bars up Western, but along the way I was waved down by a woman whose car broke down near Cock’O’TheWalk. Yeah, yeah, sad story. I gave her a $5 bill. I know I’m a sucker. I don’t care if I’m a sucker. She asked me if there was a way she could pay me back and I told her the next time she sees someone in trouble, be nice. You know what they say in AA? If you think you might like to have a drink, go help someone instead. It worked. Fuckers know something about not drinking, don’t they? Life is rather counter-intuitive for me as a recovering alcoholic, so I’m glad that they actually do know something, or I’d still be making that mistake over and over and over.

After that, well, I thought I’d just take my restless, irritable and discontent self right home instead of bar hopping. I drove past VZDs, Nova, Mushashi and, eventually, Flip’s and The Waterford. After deciding I’d be better off going home, it was OK and none of those places particularly appealed to me.

So, now, I’m at home but my libido is screaming at me and I’m doing this because it’s the best way not to think about a white horse. (only the zen may apply to understand that last sentence.

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