The Downfalls of Day Drinking

Sometimes in life, an event will take place that reminds you of how old, you truly are. It will bring those crows feet just a little too close to the surface, or summon that aching back that you have recently acquired. It will leave you weary, after little to no physical work, which summons the question; When the hell did I get so old?
Yesterday was my beautiful sister-in-law’s 18th birthday. How wonderful it made me feel to be allowed to celebrate with her, the awesomeness of legality here in Alberta…And I was prepared to indulge readily with her in this merriment.

The entire family brought the freshly crowned adult out for lunch, where I, in my overtly optimistic way, declared we would be getting ‘day drunk’.

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Oh how exciting I thought.

It has been many a moon since I’ve indulged myself with beverages of the alcoholic kind during the daylight hours. This will be a jolly good time.

And so the horror began.

After eating (thank God for eating), and three beer later, we moved locations from the restaurant to mine and Jamie’s home, where all of Heathers friends were meeting us. This is when things got a little hairy for ol’ Lindsay.

I mean who would have thought that sitting around on a deck with a bunch of 18 year olds could be so darn exhausting! All of these adult-teenagers have this vibrancy about them, a quality that I can vaguely remember myself having, but am positive has long left me since becoming ‘Mother’.

So it is about 7 o’clock pm. I am past the point of no return. I vaguely remember having the fleeting thought about an hour and a half ago that I was going to impose myself upon the young-ins and join them at the clubs this magnificent evening.

The thought now terrifies me, as I feel I have no place in a hip joint like that.

The fact that I just referred to the club, as a hip joint proves this point wholly.

I’m not sure if this has always been, or if once again this is old age kicking in, but when drinking the drink, I seem to go through some horrific stages. Once I am a little buzzed, I get this outstanding feeling of omnipotence…I CAN DO ANYTHING! I am the coolest, freshest, peppiest person this part-ay has ever known! I then will continue to pamper myself in yet another poisonous swig and all too soon my stylish demeanour comes crashing down around me.

My usual gregarious method is quieted…Quieted to such an extent that the 18’s look at me and think, ‘What’s wrong with the old foge in the corner over there, what is she doing just sitting there staring at us with that strange/eerie glare?’

Now that I have unintentionally allowed myself to get to this catatonic point, I realize I must still attempt societal visitations. So as the kids are speaking of new age issues and cutting edge fads, I will attempt to add my 2 cents. I do this by letting out a ‘HA’ to let them know I still am involved in the convo. Unfortunately this rouse of mine, has been injected into a serene part of their exchange, which indeed does not call for laughter.

Clearly I have not been listening.

They all stare at me and their questioning glance is burning a hole into the outer most part of my self confidence. It has become awkward beyond repair. I attempt to correct my faux pas by muttering nonsensically while ‘Shut up Lindsay…Stop now while you are somewhat ahead.’ runs gingerly through my mind.

So I use the only two pieces of ammo I have left to get the hell out of the situation.

“Oh I think I hear my kids crying, better go see what they need.”

As I leave I take a fleeting glance at the evidence of my stupidity that lies in bottles gingerly sprawled across the wooden patio table. I sigh relief, but hear ‘Aren’t the kids in bed already?’ as I walk in the door.

Yes of course they are in bed, safe and sound watching a movie, but I decide not to humour the question with an answer. Adding to my drunken plight.

I busy myself within the house, picking up mess and putting away muddle. As well as downing giant mugs of water to try and rid myself of this terrible feeling of inadequacy. I realize that now, at this time in my life, ‘day drinking’ is not a wise idea.

Heather and co. decide around 9pm that it is time to make their way to the bars. And as happy as I am to have them over and get to know my sister’s friends a bit better, I am ecstatic to have my home back to myself and head to a welcoming bed.

At 9:30 last night, I am snuggled securely into my big duvet, watching my PVR recorded episode of ‘Under the Dome’. And at that moment, I feel completely and utterly satisfied.

Maybe I can’t keep up with the 18’s anymore. But maybe I don’t need to. I am in fact almost ten years their elder, and in what sick and twisted universe should I be expected to run with that sort of pack?

Sometimes, in life, an event will take place that reminds you of how old, you truly are.

And in the end, I come to the conclusion that now, in this day and age; I will take herbal tea and baby snuggles over day drinking and hip joints any day of the week.

 

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10 thoughts on “The Downfalls of Day Drinking

  1. E chi l’ha detto, Francè?Perchè, i demoni non possono abitare nella Gaia?siasSapplamo talmente poco di demoni e di galassie, che ogni ipotesi è plausibile.Paolo

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    • haha ya that is true! I actually felt pretty good this morning as I was in bed and sleeping by 9:30 last night. So I see your point in regards to the hangover thing! 🙂 Thanks for reading!

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  2. isnt it crazy how this “maturity” sneaks up on us! god that just sounds wrong to realize it has been 10 short years already since we were 18! gross

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