I Can’t Believe I Am Sharing This Story Online

So, do you want to hear a story that is really only funny at the expense of my reputation?

Sure ya do.

Well it has been a really busy few weeks around here. I feel like I have been buried up to my eyeballs in nonprofit work, things with the kids, and more work. To top it off my home seems to have a revolving door on it these days with my friends. People have been coming and going at all hours of the day and night, which I usually don’t mind because hey I love the free babysitters, and yay, they keep my grown up drink cabinet well stocked, but….then there are days like Sat night.

Saturday night when you have had the longest week ever and you just want to be alone. I called my friends and told them that my community center of a home was closed and I told the two boys I’m seeing to make other plans. Suddenly I was left alone with two sleeping children, a very quiet house, a DVR calling my name, and a nicely stocked drink cabinet.

“Oh my, whatever will I find to do all by my lonesome?”

Well…I’m sure that there were many things that I could have done with my time, but what did little Miss Eden do?

She got trashed.

Alone.

At 8pm.

I think I may have hit a new low point.

Ok, ok, ok, now let me explain that I had a Mike’s Hard Cranberry while the kids ate dinner, which really, is like nothing, am I right? After I put the kids to bed I was sort of poking around my fridge looking for dinner when I noticed that there was a half a bottle of Arbor Mist “wine” left, which really is the equivalent of a grown up juicy-juice, am I right? It had been open for a few days so I figured “eh, it’s going to go flat so I might as well finish it,” because really, who wants to waste a (almost) grown up drink?

Well now here I am, a hard cranberry and some juicy juice in, totally forgot to eat dinner, and I’m thinking “you know what? It’s Saturday night, let’s spice this party up a little bit.”

Now mind you I am still alone. Party of one. Yep….that’s me.

With that I break out the blackberry whiskey. There was one bottle that had like eh….maybe two inches left in it, which I sucked down like a pro. I have to admit, I was a little proud of myself.

I turned on the TV, started a show, and was a little bit bummed that I wasn’t even “relaxed.” Now mind you I am a drinker, but I am not a drinker. I’ll have a drink or two but it’s rare for me to even get tipsy and as far as I know I’ve never been full out drunk. The closest I’ve ever come to being drunk was the night when Mrs. Nutcase Neighbor and I got tipsy and went running around the neighborhood throwing things at people’s windows like complete idiots. In fact, I wish I could claim that I was more intoxicated than I really was that night because maybe then I would have a better excuse for my behavior other than “I’m just stupid.”

So anyways, here I am, lying on my couch, a Mike’s Hard Cranberry, half a bottle of grown up juicy juicy, and probably like three shots of blackberry whiskey in, and seeing as how this is much more than I usually drink, I’m a little bit miffed that I’m not even “relaxed.”

So, I do what any possibly already intoxicated logical person would do, I open another bottle of whiskey.

Three more shots later (IN A ROW MIND YOU), I’m back on the couch watching TV.

I will fully admit that I don’t have any idea what I was thinking with this little plan of mine.

Clearly, I wasn’t thinking.

My phone receives a text message, I pick it up, and what the hell…. why is everything in hieroglyphics? Why can’t I read anything? What is wrong with my phone?

I go to sit up….and why do I suddenly weigh 476 pounds?

Oh my gosh, I think I’m drunk.

Forget being “relaxed,” oh no, I blew right past that stop and landed in the “completely trashed” zone.

Wait… if I’m completely trashed, no way would I still be thinking this logically, am I right?

I laid there for a minute pondering this situation.

“I don’t think I’m drunk because I still feel like I’m thinking pretty clearly. If I’m not drunk, then why can’t I sit up? Oh yea, because you really are probably drunk. Oh my gosh, what if the kids need me and I can’t get up!? Wait, if I’m still having logical thoughts like this, then there is no way that I’m that drunk.”

I attempt to sit up again and find that I have noodle arms.

“Ok Eden, you are definitely drunk. OH MY GOSH I am completely drunk and in charge of two small children! This is my biggest parenting failure ever!!!! What if one of them has an asthma attack and I need to take them to the hospital (neither of them have asthma but hey, you never know when it might sneak up on you)!?!? I couldn’t even drive them! I would have to call an ambulance and tell them that I’m too drunk to be a parent right now. I am a horrible, horrible, horrible human being! Wait…if I was that drunk, I really would not be thinking this logically. You know what? You just need to walk it off. Yep, that’s it Eden, just walk it off.”

With that I managed to haul my now 476 pound body into the standing position, where I immediately stumbled in a zig zag line across my living room, misjudged the entry of my kitchen by oh….about 16 inches, slammed into a wall, and knocked myself over.

It is really kind of hard to convince yourself that you are not drunk when you are lying on the floor looking at your ceiling.

“Ok, Eden, clearly you are drunk. You need to sleep it off. Yep, sleep it off. That’s what people on TV do, they sleep it off. Except the people on ‘Trauma Life In the ER,” those people almost die after aspirating vomit in their sleep. OH MY GOSH what if my kids find me dead like that!? No sleeping!! Keep moving!!! Keep moving and work it out of your system! Nope, actually, seeing as how the leading cause of death from intoxication is head injuries that are sustained during a fall and you are already on the floor, maybe you really should just stay put. Wait…how does someone get ONLY a drunk body? If you can quote statistics to yourself, your brain is fine. How did I only get part of me drunk???”

I laid there for another minute pondering this situation and decided to add it to my “things I must Google” list.

Eventually I managed to crawl back to my phone and after 13 minutes of trying to get my fingers to work, I let all my friends know that the house was back open, come fast, watch my kids, and bring me 8 gallons of water.

I fell asleep dreaming that I was on a spinning amusement park ride and thinking about the fact that at 31 years old I had finally learned what my “limit” was; it was a hell of a lot less than what I drank. Although, I woke up the next morning feeling completely fine, so yay, go me!

Fun times.