A Purring

I’m one of those people who like to get everywhere early. Punctual. I allowed for traffic and the unforeseen hurdles. So I planned for bad traffic and a delay at the post office picking up the parcel. And low and behold we were more than half an hour early for our vet appointment. There was no traffic at all. It was smooth driving, interrupted occasionally by a wailing cat. He wasn’t happy. Perhaps he thought he was being returned or abandoned. Who really knows. Maybe he didn’t like the music on the radio.

He sat patiently in the waiting room, caged and smoochy. Was expertly avoiding eye contact with the two dogs and the other cat. All was well. We waited. The canary sang behind the counter. The parrot was grumpy. A blanket was thrown over his cage. He napped after that. It was the afternoon of a heat wave.

Once in the consultation room the purring began. A reluctance to get out of the cage, a shyness to show off his inside back leg. Once it was done he was fine. He behaved like a champion, all 4.2kg of him. He has grown, a lot. We met him when he was 400g. He has come a long way.

It was nothing. It was a war wound, a bite or a scratch, licked to death with a ring of bald skin. Made it look worse than it was. He was thinking why did we bother, I could have stayed on the couch. Antibiotics were offered. We obliged. Pills twice a day for the next five days. Ten pink pills to shove down his throat. He won’t like me for ten moments. I wish for a short memory.

Life without booze is freedom. Early appointments are now a possibility. My head is on straight. I can face whatever life throws at me. Okay except the ice machine. I haven’t won that battle yet. The wooden spoon is not winning again the ice buildup. I have jabbed with a bbq fork. And a large knife. Still not working. Patience. Will try again tomorrow. I have read the manual. It’s useless. Might need to call customer service. Will assess if that’s a must tomorrow.

Picked up pizza tonight, washed it down with fizzy drink. Pepperoni, chili flakes extra. Pizza eaten sober is quite delicious. I didn’t opt for the larger pizza. I chose regular. It’s all gone now. Every bite was hot and crisp. Just right. Not a crust left in sight. Today was a carefree day. No gym, no cooking. A be kind to me day.

Two months sober. Yesss. Pizza was my sober treat.


37 days

I can feel a shift occurring. It’s a positive one. I had pizza last night. I had a tug of war with myself whether or not to get it delivered or pick it up. I decided to treat myself and get it delivered and then checked the difference in price of delivered versus pick up and my frugalness bone twitched rapidly. I promptly changed my mind and opted for pick up. I picked up the pizza and had a bonus of 2 Pokemon Stops. It got me dressed. I got to play Pokemon Go and I got pizza. Altogether a great combo. The pizza was piping hot. I didn’t have to wait anxiously for the pizza. I was delivering my own pizza.

I do find that having a pizza delivered is more stressful than picking up. Laugh all you like. But I don’t like waiting for things. Once I have ordered I watch the progress of the pizza being made and then once it is ready in store I then wait some more wondering why it hasn’t left yet. What is the traffic? Why hasn’t the GPS tracking locator app found my pizza delivery person? I have no control of the pizza after it is ordered. I actually prefer to pick up. I know what I have ordered. When I ordered it. I have time to get presentable and hop in the car and pick it up. The pizza is not sitting for a long time in traffic or waiting to be taken away. I have control. It’s anxiety free. I am occupied mentally and physically while the pizza is being made and I’m saving money at the same time. I’d call that a win-win. Wouldn’t you?

Stupid I know, but I take Pick Up over Delivery any day.

I ordered a Pepperoni.
I ate every piece.
It was hot and delicious.
I didn’t mindfully eat it.
I didn’t wait for a plate.
Sober free pizza.
A first for me.
It was sublime.