Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Developing a bad habit.

I used to be able to tell people
"oh no, I don't really drink"

And it was true.

But in recent times I would be lying should I say such things.

My ex flatmate and I used to joke about how we wished we could be cool enough to come home at the end of the day and say "Ooohh I'm dying for a Sav"
Kath and Kim-esque accent inclusive.
We weren't classy or cultured enough to enjoy wine.

This inhibition has now be swiftly drop kicked out the window.

Last night a good friend and myself demo'd 2 bottles of Sav.
Don't ask me what kind, I'm not yet cultured enough to take note of such details.
And let me tell you it was a brilliant night with some excellent D and M's.
I got in approximately 5.5 hours of sleep, woke up late but managed to clothe myself and my child, put on my face, feed the child and even got to work 15 minutes early.

I don't think this has ever happened.

So what is the universe trying to tell me?

May it also be noted that every second weekend my daughter goes to her fathers.
This is usually Mummy's "Quiet Time", a time for sleeping in, watching Glee and Americas Next Top Model and indulging (I say it like I don't do it all the time anyway) in fast food.

Well it used to be.
In recent times I look forward to my weekends off with great anticipation.
Then proceed to gaily fling myself into a weekend full of vodka, narcotics and dance parties in Mikey's living room.

I don't do this every weekend.
My bills are paid, my car is full of petrol, the cupboards are stocked.
My daughter is safe and disconnected from my extracurricular activities...
I never go to an extreme with my substances...
I have a good time, I look after myself and my friends and no damage is done.

I think I'm finally giving myself a break.
The weekends I don't have to be a single Mum, I'm being a regular 22 year old.
I work hard.
The guys at work may beg to differ, but don't listen to them, they're just jealous that I'm allowed to wear skirts to work.
I have in the past, turned my nose up at folk my age who spend their weekends drinking and doing drugs and going to town.
I think, to be honest, it was mostly jealousy.
I didn't have the freedom or the money to do that.
I've been raising my daughter on my own for the passed 2 years (of course I have heaps of support for my super awesome family, but generally speaking, I've been doing it myself)
And only now have I decide, fuck it, I deserve to have a go time, to "let my hair down" if you please.
And I've been having a fucken ball.

I think I might just embrace this bad habit.

It's not that terrible if I may say so.

So I think, my friends, we have come to life lesson number 1:


It's ok to be dying for a sav.


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