I, the drinker

I'm reading Lit (highly recommend it) by Mary Karr. Here's a quote:

I keep getting drunk. There's no more interesting way to say it. Only drunk does the volume crank down. Liquor no longer lets me bullshit myself that I'm taller, faster, funnier. Instead, it shrinks me to a plodding zombie state where one day smudges into another--it blurs time.

Sing it, Mary. Starting in high school, I used to joke about how I just wanted to hurry up and get this life over and be on to the next one. It wasn't until years later that I enlisted alcohol's help with that and the years flew by in the drink of an eye. I was living with a miserable person who I thought was miserable because of me. I had a few sober hours where I carried a rock of guilt, then cocktail hour came and I had a brief respite and the world seemed sparkly and I was, like Mary says, taller and funnier and, for me, skinnier and happy--I was going to make it to my silver anniversary and we'd dance at our son's weddings. But then I picked up the rock of shame and my load was so heavy there was nothing to do but get drunk again.

Fortunately, the days are clear and long and full of feeling now. Unfortunately, the days are clear and long and full of feeling now.