So day one was a long time coming. It was supposed to be Wednesday, but the morning had already ruined that so I set it for Thursday. I noticed that I had set it for the wrong year, but before changing it, there was an ad, and long story short, it became Friday. Friday had it's good points, one being I got a job. So now I'm going to make some money, except not as much as I need to. Great joys. I did get to hang out with Elan a bit, which was fun. After that though, it got pretty rough.
My mom and I were headed to my uncle's farm for the night, well maybe. She couldn't decide, but in the end we did. However, that's the end, in the middle were numorous fights about clothing and all sorts of stuff. No surprises there, but I was fed up with it. I was ready to go to Calgary even if I had to live in the van again. I'm still ready to go to Calgary, but I'll take my time and not live in the van. Besides, my aunt said she'd "kick (my) ass" if she ever heard of me living in the van in Calgary again. Gotta love Brenda. The drive up was a tense two hours, but oh well. It was all part of the package. Upon arriving though, I had some help for this great time: alcohol.
My uncle had some concoction of frutopia, some sort of 7-Up and vodka going. A bit later there was some wine and beer, but the vodka mixes stayed throughout the night. It was funny and a good time for the most part. It was great until about 5 am. At this point in time the alcohol had gotten to all of us, and some started going to bed and what not. One of the bad parts was that my cousin left his pepperoni lying there and I tried it. It was good and it was hot. I had a couple and long story short, went to bed pretty soon after. Big mistake.
Just shy of 5 sleeping hours (around 10 am), I was awakened by my mother for an 80th birthday party. No headache or anything, never is with me, but I usually don't drink enough to ever come close to having one. In reality, that was my second time being drunk at all. I hate it. One thing I did notice was a burning due to hot, spicy, greasy food...like pepperoni. I could taste the pepperoni in the back of my throat, so I know it wasn't an alcohol thing. I also felt a little nautious throughout the day, but I've been like that since I came back from Mexico (and it's quite common for me when I come back), so that might have been made worse by the alcohol, but it wasn't really alcohol caused. Oh, and triple helpings of shame for me, but that's a story for another time. The water dissappeared at our lunch though, and I wasn't the only one drinking it, that's for sure.
Oddly, it was my hardest day one ever and it had nothing to do with trying to break an addiction. I can honestly say, though, that the best part of my day was waking up the next morning and being able to say, "It's day two." As I'm falling asleep writing this, I'm excited to know that when I wake up tomorrow, it'll be day three although not without much temptation and divine intervention. God looked after me today, no question. The moral of the story? Who needs a moral, just don't do stupid things and for crying out loud, don't drink too much.
