My Day

I've enjoyed going to the transitional meeting.  It has been a good experience.  I'm not going to have access to this kind of gathering in Vacation City on a regular basis.  Oh, well - so be it.   I'll have access to other things, unknown things, wonderful things yet to be discovered.

Who knows what I need anyway?  Seriously, I'm asking.  

50 year sober Michael asked me what I had planned for the day.  I didn't have too much on my plate.  I was a little embarrassed not to be really, really productive.

"Well, I'm here at the meeting," I said, somewhat stupidly.  "Then I'm going to go out and have coffee so that my wife gets the apartment to herself for a little while.  Then we're going to run out to the grocery store."  I was just getting cranked up.  I didn't have anything else planned so I was getting ready to lie.  I was going to come up with a lot of very productive stuff.  I could barely get enough oxygen in to impress this guy with how fucking productive I was going to be, doing big, important, weighty important things.

"That sounds like a good day," he said matter-of-factly.

Those damn old-timers and their smug peace of mind.  They make me so mad.

There was a new guy - as in first day sober new - at the meeting.  He was sitting with a mentally ill kid who had been a little disruptive a week ago or so.  He had caused a bit of an uproar, to the point where some folks were shushing him forcefully.  He was quiet today.  He helped the new guy get a cup of coffee.  He helped the new guy find the bathroom.  The shushers weren't doing this.  I was glad the kid was there today but I wasn't glad he was there last week.

I know that everybody was thrilled to see me when I was getting sober.  I was not a pain in the ass at all.