Saturday night I expected him to be gone. He needs to go visit his father, maybe for the last time. It's been "maybe for the last time" for the past 2 years...
Anywho I went to work and told him I'm fine with him staying til I'm back home, or leaving while I was at work. Either way I absolutely HATE saying goodbye for an indefinite/or prolonged period of time. So either way it would suck for me. Nothing can make that feeling better for me. It sucks. I hate it. I despise it. If it was alive, I might consider murdering it.
So I go to work. Work is a blessing. It takes my attention, it focuses my energy, it pays me...I don't have to think about anything else. If I think about something that bums me out, well guess what I have a brand new customer at the bar and I need to smile and engage verbally. No time for being moody or sad. I seriously fucking love working.
The night shift starts off slow. One of the owners comes in with her bartender boyfriend and they take up space at my bar with their friends but I have to be on my A-game because she is the owner for heaven's sake. My attention is diverted. I'm not thinking about a month ahead of me of coming home to an empty house. I'm not dreading anything. I'm totally energetic and my back pain has ceased, my worries are all work-related and therefore completely fixable.
The end of the night comes closer, cooks come out to get some beers...the bar then fills up with Russian professional dancers that are looking to get wasted and I'm making cocktails like mad. My manager decides he wants us all to try new wines on the wine list and I start drinking. No need to think about going home or missing my guy or showing up to family functions alone or figuring out what to do with myself, we all get plowed.
10 minutes before I am set to go home I look out the window and see my guy! I go outside to the dining patio and talk to him through the gate. He tells me about the return of James and how it has postponed his departure because he wants to make sure we can get James all settled in before he leaves. We go home together. I tell him I didn't plan on seeing him. I thought he would have been gone so I went ahead and got myself nice and drunk so I could go home and just immediately go to sleep, no energy or time to sit up thinking.
He doesn't like that. Tells me it's self-destructive. I realize he's right. It's always worked for me in the past though. I am a mix of "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and "out of sight, out of mind." Maybe 50/50, its hard to say. My point is...got to try to stop heavy boozing when it comes to dealing with really saddening situations. I can deal with anger, annoyance, stress...well I can't really but I can do it without drinking. But when it comes to sadness... I just don't have the stomach for it.
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