“Liquor is the Devil, that tried to steal my soul; leading me towards the darkness, so deeply black and cold.”

 

I wish it were true, that I’ve had my last hangover, but really, it’s about the last one that I had. Unless I quit drinking, completely, I will probably have another, and another.

I remember my first. I was about 6, and the ring bearer for an Aunt and Uncle. Most of us are of German descent, so beer was not uncommon. Actually, beer was really common. Any way, the night before the wedding was the rehearsal dinner, outside, with a couple of kegs, which were left unguarded. In fact, not only were they unguarded, this was a time when kids were sent to refill their parents’ cups.

Yeah, I fulfilled those duties faithfully. You probably get the picture. Fill the cup, drink some, fill the cup, and deliver it. I learned to love the taste of beer, earlier than 6, though. Back then it wasn’t unusual for parents to let their kids steal the beer can and toddle off with it. Yeah, it was cute and made for great stories.

Back to the wedding. There is a picture of the wedding party, with me standing with the lovely couple, dangling the ring pillow and looking like shit. Yeah, I was suffering.

Unfortunately, this has been an ongoing event. Not me being the ring bearer, but rather the hangovers.

Funny, I’m educated, with two degrees, but I still drink too much, knowing how I’m going to feel, and knowing how it messes things up. Yeah, educated doesn’t mean smart.

Here I am, a Monday morning, picking up on this article and feeling the affects of the Ta-Kill-Ya I drank yesterday. You’d think I’d learn by now. Me and liquor don’t mix. I used to be able to drink it. Lots of it, but not now.

Me and alcohol. It’s a love/hate relationship. I love it when I’m drinking, I hate it the morning after. Well, not as many mornings after, but still the ones I have are a bitch.

At least I’m not the ogre that I have been. There was a time that I got MEAN, really MEAN. I’m surprised that my wife, Selena, is still with me. She dealt with that shit in her first marriage. I’m ashamed that I’ve added to her pain, but she’s hung with me. Maybe, because I haven’t moved to drugs.

Right now, I don’t have an answer. As I mentioned earlier, I’m of German descent and Germans drink. We enjoy a good time with a beverage. Guess I’m going to keep fighting the battle.

I’m sure I’m not alone. Who else is fighting this battle?