08 January, 2010

nary a drink in days

since i have come back from edmonton, i have not had a single drink. not one solitary sip...wait, scratch that. my parents gave us a mini-giftie: a hip flask filled with the last of my mom's homemade cassis liqueur which one would gladly sell one's first-born for. well, i would anyhow (and you thought i was childless the natural way) and i did have a teensy little sip of that. but it doesn't count. it barely coated my soft palate and only lightly tickled my uvula. it was hardly a drink.

i have eaten fruit every day.

true, i have taken several sleeping pills but i had to work in the morning and didn't want to frighten my patients with the drooling zombie face of death.

i have looked in the mirror and seen the Alarming Growth Of The Gut. no wonder, given the complete and utter pork-out and wine-swill that the preceding two weeks had been. i must do something about this. i cannot stand the sight of myself. and yet, here i sit, instead of hoisting my arse off the soft sheep-covered glory of the couch and going to work out. my excuse - laundry. not that laundry requires active participation these days. no longer must one hoist one's unmentionables in a bundle over one's head, waddle to the river and beat them over a rock. no. they now have a machine that does all the work. but no matter. i am doing laundry, sweaty brow and all.

over and out.


Anne said...

Laundry counts. It counts so much that I've been putting it off, and I only do that with things that require effort, of course. You are doing better than me eating fruit every day, too.

(Also I've just sent you an email about holiday excess, and then panicked that you wouldn't know it was me, so here's a comment to identify it! My new year's resolution is less neurosis; doing well so far....)

the polish chick said...

AH! so it is you! i was hoping it was. i have written you back, too.

laundry has always been my most favourite of chores. vacuuming my least.

as for less neurosis, well, let me know if you come up with any tricks, because i surely could use them. to sort of paraphrase waffle, we're all 19 in our heads, wondering if anyone likes us or if we're pretty or smart enough.


Anonymous said...

your parents give good gifts!


Anonymous said...

drink, drink, drink. The literary world loves the neurotic drunk.

mondraussie said...

i too have noticed the alarming growth of the gut, but i have neither taken up fruit nor given up alcohol... nor have i exercised... i blame the snow, it's positively dangerous out there on those icy streets and if i break a leg then i really will turn into a fat porker on the couch... sadly however, it has just started to rain, so i see that excuse is melting away before my very eyes...

(btw, i found you through that grammar comment you left on belgian waffle's blog and was so impressed i had to follow you to your site!!)

the polish chick said...

welcome, mondraussie, welcome. i am glad that my grammatical neurosis has come in handy. it's almost like walking a dog or a small child, people come up to talk to you. and here am i, taking my neurosis out for a midday stroll.