tales of a girl in the city

mars 01, 2004

What's bad is that I've been drinking a lot lately.

What's good is that I think that my drinking has destroyed only a small group of brain cells. You know, the ones that make it impossible for you to set your clock ten minutes fast so that you get up early? The ones that--when your alarm goes off at 8:00 even though the time is actually 7:50--say, "Don't get up now! Remember, you set your clock ten minutes fast yesterday. It's actually 7:50. You still have ten minutes of sleep. Idiot." (And, really, if you're me, you still have sixteen minutes of sleep because we all now know I won't get up until 8:06 under any circumstances.)

Well, anyway, where was I? Oh. Those. My drinking a lot lately has killed those brain cells.

I know this for certain because, for the past several weeks, I have been buying a chocolate heart every day at lunch and putting it in my pocket in hopes that I will forget about it and remember it later when I have a craving for something sweet.

"This is silly," I have said each day as I put the chocolate in my pocket. "I will totally be eating this chocolate in about ten seconds. This piece of chocolate won't even make it to the lobby elevator. Dumb plan. Like I'm really going to forget that this yummy chocolate is in my pocket."

And then...

...I promptly forget about the piece of chocolate in my pocket until hours later when I have a craving for something sweet and suddenly remember that there's a piece of yummy chocolate in my pocket.

I was actually mildly amused by this new trick of mine because it reminds me of the game we play with my dad's dog, Frankie. You know that game. The one where you pretend to throw his ball, but don't really throw it, and just laugh when he runs around like crazy looking for his ball, and then looks all confused when he turns around and you're still holding the ball in your hand. Silly Frankie. It's cute when he does it. And I kind of thought it was cute when I did my own version of it with this new, great chocolate trick. My alcohol-addled brain had turned me into my very own chocolate lab, and that kind of made me happy.

I'm just being honest.

But then today the trick worked again.


I bought the chocolate, forgot about the chocolate, had a craving for the chocolate, remembered the chocolate, ate it....
...and then forgot I had eaten it....
...had another craving for chocolate...
...remembered the chocolate that I still thought I HAD IN MY POCKET...
...went to my pocket to get it...
...and realized I'd eaten it already.

And now I'm just sad.

And an alcoholic. And a chocoholic.

And, apparently, quite stupid.