Yesterday I was cranky. I have a non-zero level of burnout at work: nowhere near enough to quit, but an undercurrent of, not rage, but profound irritation. It really hit a month or so ago, after one specific incident. I have a good boss who notices these things, so with his blessing yesterday afternoon, after a day or a few weeks of working on some dumb-ass thing or another that shouldn't have needed doing, I went out and re-populated the team fridge with a 12-pack of beer, of which I promptly drank two.
My relationship to alcohol has changed over the years. It used to be just fun, and I metabolized it quickly; as I grew older, my body appreciated it less, and it started to affect my mood more. So I don't drink much any more, except for when it's time to drink a bit, and I try to think carefully about how I'm feeling and why, and what alcohol might do to that.
Tonight was a beer at work, then a gin & tonic and half a bottle of wine with a swank dinner with my best friend, and that was just right. I felt better after a few beers yesterday: sometimes I need to turn my consciousness in a certain direction, and substances that affect the central nervous system, consciously used, can be helpful.
Some weeks, the stranger quirks of my life are more than I can deal with and remain cheerful. Sweet Jesus, what a crazy ride this is. If I don't enjoy it 100% of the time, what on earth would I trade it for? Anything would be less interesting, and would have to happen to a different person, because this is me, and I'm being myself to the best of my ability. I'm getting quite good at it, too.