Gratitude

I'm grateful to be sober today. Just another day of sobriety, another daily reprieve from slavery to alcohol, is a miracle. I'm grateful to God for His mercy and grace in granting me this gift today.

By chance, by the steady cycle of earth's rotation, it happens that this is the 365th consecutive day of sobriety for me. So, today is my first AA birthday. :)

I pray that I will remain sober for the rest of today, and that tomorrow I will remember what I had to do today to stay sober. The rest will work out, according to God's design.

If anyone with fewer days of sobriety is wondering how to make it a year, the answer is simple: one day at a time!

Productive

Thank you, everyone, for all your kind words of encouragement! It really helps a lot. :)

Things are not bad at all. I am actually posting this from work -- yes, that's right, work! I resgistered with an agency Monday and started a gig Tuesday. And they keep wanting me to come back. It's not a huge amount of money, and I'm a temp, but it feels good to be productive and valued by an employer. It's remarkable how different it is to go to work in the morning without a hangover, and without having to drink oceans of coffee both to keep myself awake and to cover my stale beer breath.

My living situation is going fine, too. I actually like it more than I anticipated I would. I figured, just knowing how I am, that I would spend the first couple weeks absolutely hating it and kicking myself for doing it, then settle in a bit and accept it. But I've found I do accept it, and I'm benefiting from my brothers in the house. If I stay 2 or 3 months, I'll probably leave with 2 or 3 lifelong friends. It's inconvenient, I find myself resenting rushing from work to spend a few minutes with my son, and rushing to the house to make my curfew. Then do my silly chores, vacuuming a clean rug and windexing a spotless glass table. So, obviously, it's good that I'm living there. :)

Last night I did the rushing around, a bottle of bleach leaked in my truck, and my son was utterly blase about seeing me. I mentioned the bleach to a guy at the house, and he pointed out I should be grateful to have a truck. He was right, of course, and I agreed, and added that I'm grateful for bleach, too.

Today I realized I felt hurt that my son has been blase and matter-of-fact when he sees me the past few days. I'm accustomed to him being excited and thrilled to see me. Well, since he would go a week or two without seeing me, of course he was excited. Now he sees me every day, and it's part of his daily routine. And that's why I'm here -- to see him every day and be a part of his routine. So why should I feel bad that he responds to it as a routine thing? :)

I really do have a lot to be grateful for, and I'm aware of the countless blessings God has given me. Every day, it seems I'm a little more happy, joyous and free than I was the day before. Can it get any better than that???

Bless you all, my friends! I'll post again when I can.

Sober Living Like a Drunk

I'm actually writing this at my wife's place. She's been reasonably okay with me being around and doing some stuff at her place.

It's great seeing my son every day. He keeps asking to go to my house -- he doesn't quite understand I don't live there any more.

So, I'm at sober living. It's pretty grim. It's clean, the guys are okay (with one exception), but it's old and worn out, and crowded. I HATE having to be in at a certain time, there isn't much to do. There's three TV rooms, but no quiet, decently-lit place to read. So I go to bed early and get started early.

My priorities are to get a job and sell my truck. I got my resume together, but I can't find my contact names, addresses and numbers to save my life. Or my truck title. They're somewhere in storage. And storage is a freaking disaster.

I hate living like a drunk. Almost a year sober and I'm still living like a drunk. Just moving to LA has given me a lot of clarity where I am in recovery. Step Six. I'm trying to be willing to let God remove these character defects I have nurtured and cherished for so many decades. And humility to ask God in Step Seven. Willingness for six; humility for seven.

I don't WANT to be in sober living; but I want to want being there.

I can't bring my son there. Well, I can, but I won't. The first night I was there, one of the guys was talking about what another guy said to his fiancee: "What would you think if I stole a pair of your panties, and a pair of your 4-year-old daughter's, and mailed them back to you anonymously?" That's all I needed to hear: my son is going nowhere near there!

Well, back to job-hunting. I'll post again when I have a chance.