Mental workout

I had to give myself a stern talking to and mentally slap my hand last night, but I made it through.

We had people over for dinner and the beer a couple were drinking looked mighty good. My own fault for picking up Dos Equis - one of my favorites - and making crap iced tea that didn't satisfy. It was fine as long as people were in the house, but I missed sitting down in the chair with a beer and a sigh at the end of the evening. So much so that I kept eyeing Matt's beer and half-hoping he'd get up to use the bathroom so I could take a swig.

I'd counter that with Hell no you won't, and knew if I had even the smallest amount I could not in good conscience put a check mark on the calendar for the day. The mental back and forth was a good opportunity to ask myself some questions. Why now? What's different? If you had one, would a taste suffice? One beer? Two? Are you thirsty? Are you antsy? Aha! You're antsy. Well, a beer isn't going to fix that and you'd regret it. Not that you couldn't have a sip and go to bed, but you would regret that sip and for what? A taste you don't need.

Having a drink wasn't going to help me feel good or relaxed. It wasn't going to go clothes shopping for me or do the dishes or give me good dreams, so I bowed to logic and told myself to breathe and get over it.