K sent me an email berating me for leaving you all in the lurch about my well being. Sorry, K!
Two weeks sober today, and feeling much better, thank you very much. Not depressed. The down side is that, like many writers, alcohol was my Muse, the lubricant that allowed my fingers to fly across the keyboard, and without it, I feel rather dull and uninspired. Hence, no posts.
I want to thank every single person who has sent me good wishes, especially Judy in Atlanta, who witnessed my first sobriety 21 years ago and assured me that I could do it again.
I have been knitting, and finished the rose colored socks last night. They are just plain vanilla, not photo worthy. And this morning, I picked up the Handsome Shawl from Victorian Knits Today that I haven't touched in weeks.
I have also been getting up at 4freakingthirty every morning, in order to get Sweetie off to the Glorious Job. Because we have plenty of eggs, he gets french toast every morning and sometimes fried egg sandwiches for lunch. Sometimes I go back to sleep for an hour or two, and sometimes I stay up.
With Sweetie gone, I am able to clean the house and it stays clean for more than ten minutes. I even oiled the living room furniture! All the little piles of stuff have been being sorted and reallocated to either its proper place or the trash.
I baked bread!
I have also been reading lots of stuff online. I don't know if every computer can do this, but my iMac can be set to read text in a variety of voices. This is great for catching up on blogs, email, and also web sites. It allows me to listen and knit simultaneously, which is why those socks got finished.
I found a fascinating site that deals with the flip side of AA, the cult aspect of it, and have read (listened to) dozen of pages there. I am not powerless, and I do not believe in a personal god, and so, AA is problematic for me at the very least. I am the Problem Child in the AA chat room, but I am rather enjoying being a bit of a rabble rouser, which is so unlike me! What that means, I am not sure, except that maybe I feel secure in my beliefs.
I have lost some bunnies in the last month, which is sad making. Louise was Fuzzarelly's last remaining baby, and at five and a half years, she was at the age that many angoras die. Louise was a bitch, never my favorite, but it was still sad - and end of an era, in a way. I still have Fuzzarelly's brother, FuzzyBob, though. Another angora bunny just up and died, and two of the little babies died, too. I still have Tootsie and Jack (named for Jack White, of the White Stripes,) and they are fat little fellas.
