For me, it's more a case of what haven't you done, which is drink.
That's six days sober, which is good going for me, and to make it to the end of Sa'day without chugging is good work for a Cardiff Drunk - all those football matches, all those pubs on the way home from work and that's what people do after work isn't it? Going for a pint? I never go for a pint though, maybe a gallon, usually substantially more.
But not today.
I'm in sobriety and I'm not sure what to do with it. I'm glad to be at work and not suffering withdrawals, but I think I'm still in the addicted phase - I feel uncomfortable without my beer; I'm not sure what to do with myself and even Dusty and the White Stripes can't save us now.
My mind's racing all the time. Spin, drizzle, crunch, grind, extrapolate, speculate, down and down, down and around then back to the top and off again. It's exhausting.
I can sleep though. I might take my new high dose of Trazodone tonight and that's going to be a big sleep (not The Big Sleep of course, which means death - I wonder if the owners of the Big Sleep hotels were aware of that when they so cheekily appropriated the great Raymond Chandler's words for their poxy executive hutches.)
I've done work, I've done cooking the dinner and now I'm petrified of boredom - there's a DVD to watch but I don't know if I can concentrate for that long; we shall see I suppose.
I have managed to finish a novel though (no, not writing one, reading.) That's a step in the right direction, a move up the long hill of, erm, happiness.
I've got this and this helps. But I dance around doing it. Think and think and think and think and prevaricate. I log on and check my emails and open up the dashboard, but then I'm off. The emails always include something from Brighteye, telling me the SOS forum has been updated, so off I go there. It's been a great help in fact to have Brighteye - what use it does I don't know, but being able to offer advice does give something of a sense of worth, however unjustified.
Then there's The Guardian to scoot through - usually in search of somewhere to chuck my tuppence in. Partly in promotion of this blog, to which I always leave a link (oh, such delusions I have of this blog.) Still, it's something I DO, and do (nearly) every day... As well as being the corner stone of my attempt on the world parenthesis record.
It's my spastic mind you see. I've been looking up Post Alcohol Withdrawal Syndrome and there may be an element of that to my meandering, but, although I don't really have the evidence of long-term sobriety to back it up I believe it's always there.
See it off sherbet, belt it one booze, piss on it the pop....
Every day in every way I'm getting hetter and hetter.
But, at least I'm not drunk.
I may be tomorrow, but I'm not today. Tomorrow, I'm due to go to The C to see someone, dangerously early, around noon - I maaaaaay try and negotiate the whole pub/social interaction thing without drinking, but we shall see, that's tomorrow and today I'm not drunk.
If you were listening, thank you.