I'm Quitting Tomorrow

by Sara Hynes

After my accident last week brought my life as I know it to a screeching halt I resolved myself to a nice long ride on the wagon. If I kept going at the rate I have been for the past...oh...10 years or so...I'd end up permanently in the hospital or dead. As it is, I've ended up in the Cambrdige Hospital ER 3 times within the past 6 months for drinking related injuries, most involving my bicycle. I needed no direction to the ER's restroom Tuesday night despite my hammered and beat up state. My parents would not be proud.

In fact, upon hearing about my accident from my sister, my parents didn't so much as pick up the phone to check my status. I had to call them. The conversation was short, and my request for a loan until I can work again, next month, was not well received. I got a sort of non-answer; not a "yes", not a "no", just a non-answer.

I do understand that I am in my late twenties, and at this point really should not be asking my parents for money. I don't make this a habit, by any means. I have 3 jobs, and don't ask anyone for help financially. Unfortunately, due to my alcoholic stupidity, I am now out of my 3 jobs for a month. I'm a bartender...at all 3 of my jobs. You can't bartend with one hand.

Saturday I attended a friend's wedding back in my hometown in NH. Being around all my high school friends I allowed myself to be peer pressured into drinking with all my old buddies, like it was a Friday night football game or a party on Whiskey Hill, which is where the wedding was held, no coincidence. As I grabbed my first drink I said to myself, "I'm quitting tomorrow." Again.

The reception was a jovial celebration and it was fantastic to see all these faces in one place again. At the end of the night it was raining and instead of driving back to Boston my ride decided she would crash at her parents house, I decided I would follow suit and had her drop me at mine.

Many times I've played back actions I've made and imagined I have my own personal cheering section. In situations like this one it would be chanting "BAD IDEA, BAD IDEA!" In my mental picture they are all wearing Bayside High regalia. I'm not sure if this has any relevance.

Upon entering my childhood home my mother was awake and we started cheerfully chatting. I suspect she was also drunk, it was 1am. Then my father stumbled into the kitchen, visibly hammered. What started as a conversation ended with me attempting to whack him with my cast screaming, "In case you missed it I BROKE MY HAND!!" At the same time my mother was trying to hug me and kept saying she loved me as tears streamed down my face. Ahh, nothing like quality time with the fam.

My father then passed out in his recliner and my mother and I talked in the kitchen for another hour. My 18 year-old-brother came down to ask why we weren't asleep. We took the cue to hit the hay, exhausted from the confrontation earlier.

In the end my mother offered to lend me my rent and some money for groceries, until I find a temp job you don't need two hands for. Again, what started as another drunken revelry ended in disaster. Just another atestment for the campaign for me to quit drinking.

Tonight, when asked by friends to get a few drinks I retired my old slogan and spouted a new phrase, "I quit drinking."