Sometimes, just for a moment, I get really bummed out about where my life is going. Now, you have to understand, 99% of the time I love my life. I never deserved to be showered in such wonderful blessings:
- A loving, perfect, dedicated and sexy wife
- A perfectly adorable, super smart, and kind daughter
- Friends and family who love me
- A nice apartment in a great city
But 3.6 days a year, I just get frustrated.
I want to do what I want, when I want to do it, without being saddled with the consequences. Most of the time, every desicion I make is measured, and every choice is reasoned-through and diliberated: Where would this money go otherwise? What would the people in my church think? How would this affect my wife and daughter?
Today, I got some bad news from a client. I have to redo a horrifyingly tedious 3-day project that I never should have had to do the first time. And they’re acting like fucking pricks about it, too. That one-in-a-hundred response kicked in:
Fuck that. They can sit on it and spin. I’d rather step in front of a truck.
I should walk out of this office and get a stiff drink, or three. I can do this job buzzed. Fuck the consequences. Maybe I’ll just quit. I should get smashed. I don’t have to drive tonight. Whiskey sounds perfect right now. What do I have going on tonight?
Oh, right, my daughter’s birthday party. I can’t very well be one of those dads that’s drunk at all of our family events.
Goddamit, I could use a drink though. I’m not even an alcoholic. I should be able to have a whiskey at lunch, right? What would my boss think? How much does whiskey cost? I already have to buy lunch today because I didn’t pack one last night.
Now, I would love to leave you with some really clever, Jesus-y closing remarks. Maybe I could say something about fighting my natural response and drawing upon something to rise above the blah gobble dribble blah…
I can’t do that right now, because I just received that email 30 minutes ago and I still want to get drunk. Will I? Probably not. But one of these days, maybe I will. After all, I’m mostly a good person, right? I’m not as bad as some husbands and dads I’ve met. Who are they to call me out for one or two big mistakes?
As I write this, I’m eating a delicious chicken pesto sandwich at a local bakery near my work. I have 30 minutes left of my lunch, and there is a liquor store next door and four bars within a very short walking distance.
And I’ve already made my decision.