Day 113 - Responsibilities

     "I remember asking my Dad for something.  I don't remember exactly what it was but I know it had a bit of a price tag on it," I said as the car negotiated the curved exit ramp with ease.
     "Turn right at the light, then when you hit the first stop sign turn left.
     "I do remember that he didn't say no.  I was fifteen so he knew I wasn't going to take no for an answer any way.  I thought the money would just come from somewhere.  I didn't know any better.  His answer, though," I paused "his answer was even better than no."
     "The left right here?"  V asked as we got to the stop sign.
     "Yes."
     The night air felt good.  Had it been twenty years ago this ride would have been made at 2:30 in the morning.  I was surprised to look at the dashboard and see that it was only 9:30 at night.
     This made me happy.  If I drank the right amount of water and got to bed within the hour there was a possibility that I wouldn't be dealing with a raging hangover in the morning.
     "I remember saying something like 'I'm part of this family so I should have a say in things!'  He just looked at me and said 'You can have a say.  I have no problem with that.  The only thing you have to do is come up with enough money to cover the mortgage, pay the phone bill, electric bill, gas bill, and put food on the table for the month.  Once you are able to shoulder that responsibility you can have a say.'"
     "Sounds like a smart man," she said.
     "He was," I said reflecting.  "He was.  I didn't have the answer.  I just stood there dumbfounded.  That is when I came up with the first plan."
     "Speaking of plans, when were you planning to tell me which house is yours?"
     "Sorry.  It's the little brown colonial on the left."
     "Plans Change," whispered a voice in the back of my head as we pulled into my driveway.  I sat up a little bit straighter in my seat.  I wasn't jolted sober but I was jolted alert.  I remembered the last time I had a rock solid plan.  I remembered how my feet were trapped in stone while the machines hammered my soul into the floor.  I remembered that plans borne of pain play out poorly.
     "Are you going to be ok?"  She asked, noticing my back was a little bit straighter.
"I'm not going to read about you being found dead in your house a few days from now, am I?  You're not going to fall asleep on your porch are you?"
     "You could always come up and tuck me in," I said feeling the slick smile cut across my face, "BUT this wasn't a hook up call."
     She put her head down and smiled.
     "You're right," she said still smiling.  "This was not a hook up call.  Sleep well you beautiful black man."
     "Safe travels.  Shoot me a text when you get home so I know you're ok."
     "You've got it," she said with a little salute.  "and keep me in mind if you decide to leave this job.  Sorry about your kitty."
     "Thank you," I said stepping out of the car.
     The little convertible roared off into the darkness.  The night air felt good.  Twenty years ago I would have been worried about a raging hangover.  I knew I was going to get a good night's sleep.  I knew I would wake up the next day and have no problem with the mortgage, the phone bill, the electric bill, the gas bill, and putting food on the table.  It's amazing how time and good direction can teach you to shoulder the necessary responsibilities.

Day 112 - Derailed

     "She died in my arms," I said through the tears.  "I'm not out drinking because of the job.  I'm sad because I had to put my cat to sleep."  I covered my face with my hands.  I was too drunk and sad to be embarrassed.
     "I'm so sorry," V said touching my shoulder.
     "I was so derailed by my own mess..."  I started.  "But she knew she was loved."  I finished, wiping my eyes with one of the bar napkins I grabbed before we left.  "That's the important thing.  She knew she was loved."
     I looked at the light of the moon in my lap.  It was a warm April evening and the sky was clear.  The little sports car exploded once we reached the highway.  Her hair flowed in the wind.  She had put the top down on the convertible because she didn't want me to throw up in her car if I got too sick on the ride home.
     "Is that what you meant by the wrong decision?"  She asked while her hair whipped around her face.  "Because there was nothing you could do for her.  She was clearly suffering.  You said it yourself, she knew she was loved."
     I stared at the light in my lap and felt a few hot tears burn down my cheeks.
     "I just wish I could have done more.  Maybe I was too busy being angry.  Maybe she absorbed the bitterness that's been coursing through my veins lately.  Maybe..."
     "You are the worst drunk ever," she said shaking her head.  I looked at her sideways for a second and then we both started laughing.
     "I don't mean to sound crass.  I know what you've been through.  I had to put Kayla down last year but oh my god you are a horrible drunk."
     "It's the wine," I started.
     "That leads to the whining," she finished.  We both laughed again.  I felt a bit more of the heaviness leave my chest.  Kayla was her companion.  I wasn't a big dog person but Kayla liked me and I liked her.  She had seen my friend through a rocky marriage, a rough divorce, and a later in life career transition.  I could relate to her world of hurt.
     "I guess I'm in for the long haul."  She said.  "How far is your Mom's place from here?  40 - 45 minutes?"
     I looked over in surprise.
     "You were going to drive me all the way back to the boondocks?!?  Wow you are a friend.  I'm actually two exits up.  I have a little crash pad for emergencies."  I did the slow motion face wipe again.
     "Being on the road two to three hours a day was killing me so I set up a place where I could chill out if I needed to, like tonight.  It's nothing special.  It's like a dilapidated frat house with less testosterone and more responsibility."
     "Oh nice," she mocked.  "You're pretending to be an adult."
     "If I could afford to be an adult I'd be happier but that's all part of the plan."
     "You were supposed to tell me about this 'plan'."
     I looked from the moonlight in my lap to the moon in the sky.  I wondered if Kayla and my kitty were running through the clouds keeping each other company.  I was trying to figure out how I got were I was.  I was still drunk but I wasn't as sad or embarrassed any more.  Even in this fluid state I decided to fortify my resolve.
     "I'm sorry.  I was derailed by my own mess.  Let me tell you about my plan for love.  Let me tell you about my plan for personal responsibility."

Day 110 - Resolve

     The next few weeks slowly started to unravel.  I became the employee I hated.  I was forgetful, distracted, and on occasion, late.  JP was right.  Why was I going out of my way to prove myself to people who didn't want to respect me?
     Everything came to a head one night.
     "Have you done that?"  I think I asked again.
     "Please don't do this to yourself," I could hear the stern pleading in V's voice.
     "Have you gone back to that moment?  I mean the moment where you think you made the wrong decision?  I have.  I do it all the time."  I picked up the wine glass and tipped the stem to the ceiling.  The red didn't even have flavor anymore.  I could feel it making its way into my system to join the rest of the bottle.
     Every once in a while there is a day where no matter what you do you're done.  Every movement boxes you into a corner.  Every attempt to make things right comes up short.
     The clock can't tick fast enough and the day can't end soon enough.  Even the machines were tired of hammering relentlessly.  The grinding metal cacophony had finally reached its fever pitch and had pulled back to a steady hum.
     I closed my eyes and let the last glass hit me like a wave.
     "Thank you," I heard myself say.  "Thank you for coming to pick me up."  I extended my hand to shake hers.  I heard the empty wine glass clink against the bar in the distance.  Luckily the glass didn't break.  If only my resolve could have been that strong.
     My hand hung in the air.
     "I didn't give you my business card for some drunk hook up," she seethed.
     "I didn't call you to hook up."  I did the slow motion face wipe.  There were a few goals.  The number one was to keep it together.  The number two goal was to not puke on myself.  The number three goal was to not wake up on my front porch in my underwear.
     "I just need to talk to someone who has had a bit of distance.  I know it might not seem like it right now but I have a plan and I need to run it by someone."
     "Ok," V said rolling her eyes, "but you can tell me while I drive you home."
     "Deal," I said.
     Over the drive home I explained how the last few weeks slowly unraveled the grand plan.

Day 107 - That Thing

     "What in the hell is that thing on your face?" V asked with a combination of surprise and confusion.  I had let the hibernation beard grow out of control.  Shaving just wasn't a part of the equation this year.
     The events that led to this last hibernation had left me numb.  No matter how hard I tried to dial things back I couldn't.  No matter how close I came to a total reset of mindset the final piece wouldn't click into place.
     This year the hibernation seemed like a Sisyphean task.
     "Oh Hey!  It's the hibernation beard."
     "Wow!  I've seen you with a five o'clock shadow before but this..." Her voice trailed off a bit.  "I have to admit you kind of look like a bad ass."
     Every once in a while it happens.  The line is just long enough for me to get caught talking to someone.  Usually I can time it just right.  I run in.  I grab what I need and go.  Even though I look like a 'bad ass' I must look like a nice bad ass because ocassionally random people will just start a conversation.
     Sometimes it's about how long the line is.  Sometimes it's about how the person in front of us MUST be paying in pennies because 'no transaction on earth takes this long!'. Sometimes it's about the weather.
     Normally I will say I forgot my wallet in my car and go on a short walk until the line dissipates.  Unfortunately this was my second go round.  I had already gone on my walk and the store was closing in ten minutes.  More important, I was out of wine.
     She knew me from work.  We worked together for a few years but then she got an offer at a different company making different money.
     "Thank you.  I think?"  The question hung in the air for a second.
     "No, no, no.  It's a good thing.  I've also never seen you in jeans before."
     "Sir," I heard the cashier say.  My heart sang.  As much as I do like seeing people I like sometimes I just want to get in the store and get out.  "I'll be right with you," she said running to the back of the store.  My heart sank.
     "So how's the new job?" I asked, genuinely curious.
     "It's different.  Different pay structure.  Different environment.  I went from being one of the oldest people in the office to being just one of the crowd."
     We heard a flurry of sneezes from the back of the store intermixed with a few "Oh My Gods".  This commotion was followed by a long coughing fit.  V and I just looked at each other moderately concerned.
     "I'm sorry," said the red faced cashier as she returned.  "It's my allergies."  She put her right wrist to her nose and fanned herself with her left hand.
     "Bless you," we both said at the same time.
     "Talk to you after hibernation," I said after I checked out and headed for the door.
     "Here's my card.  I know it's been kind of a rough year for you.  We're always looking for good people.  If you want to get a clean start I'll put in a good word for you."
     "Thank you," I said slipping her card into the good pocket.  "I'll keep you in mind."
     "You might have to shave that thing on your face for the interview but other than that I think you'd be a perfect fit."  We laughed a little then she disappeared into the darkness.
     As much as I needed a change I also needed to find the weakness in the armor and watch it spread.  I had a plan and shaving just wasn't part of the equation this year.