Don’t Drink and Diet

Remember that time you got drunk off of ONE drink?  One very, very strong martini?

No?  Well, I am not saying that happened to me either, I’m just saying that it’s possible to lose your tolerance for alcohol and be confronted with the fact that you aren’t in your twenties anymore… and that the college days of drinking on a Thursday night (“thirsty Thursdays”) aren’t really very compatible with being a working adult.

Imagine if you will, a woman in her mid-thirties on a date with her husband for his birthday.  Imagine being in a fine restaurant and wondering if you’re four-year old will behave so you can enjoy the $50 meals you are going to order.  For the sake of telling a good story, this woman will take on the first person narrative (but I’m still not saying it’s actually me).

“Would you like any drinks,” asked our sweet and efficient waitress.

“Yes,” I said before I realized it was my own voice, “Can I see a drink menu?” (Wait who said that?).

I ordered a chocolate-coffee-espresso-baileys-kahlua-vodka something or other. I had no choice.  I’d made the sweet waitress bring me a drink menu.  She looked at me expectantly.  I don’t like to disappoint.

The martini that appeared was — tiny. It did not even taste like coffee or chocolate.                                                                                                                                      –It kind of tasted like gasoline.

It burned.
It touched my tongue and scorched me.
And that sensation was addicting.

And I was also pretty hungry.  I’m on a 1500 calorie diet.  I knew we’d be going out that evening and I didn’t want to feel guilty, so I’d saved some of those calories for Caesar dressing or butter on my bread (none of which is really allowed).  But then again, if I was going to indulge, why not a little alcohol?  It was my husband’s birthday, and my son was quietly playing on his Leapfrog, and it was just one drink.

I feel like it’s important to mention I was wearing Spanx too.  My background is not in science, but I theorize that the little food I was eating was caught somewhere in my sternum while the alcohol, in its liquid state was able to trickle down past the food, into my stomach (the hollow empty stomach).

I should probably also  mention that I don’t really drink.  *No, really. Ask my friends. I rarely drink.

Why you ask?  Because I’m always on a diet and who wants to waste calories on alcohol? And alcohol seems like a weird waste of money which would be better spent on dessert! (*which might be why I’m always on a diet).

Half way through, my husband seemed as though he was sitting further away from me.   Everything I said made me giggle (because well let’s face it I’m pretty  funny).  At one point, I couldn’t get the fish I ordered to stay on my fork.  It fell off the second I lifted it to where I thought my mouth should be. It just kept falling — which made me laugh – a lot.

But I drank on because I’m not wasting a $15 drink.  Nope. I’m a trooper.

I quickly passed the mark of the relaxation that usually settles in my legs with one alcoholic beverage.  I found myself eating my julienne veggies in a swirl of dizzy — one hand holding on to the table, the other trying to use a fork to pick up slivers of zucchini.

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No.  Look how small my drink is,” I said pointing to my empty glass.

I excused myself to use the ladies room – -and it felt like I swam there.  Like wading through waist deep water.  In the absolute silence of the bathroom stall, I could hear the blood pumping through me like the bass of a tripped out Honda with an eighteen-year old pimple-faced, bad-ass behind the wheel.  Nothing good can come from that.

And the next day…

It was bad.  I was dehydrated.  I couldn’t drink enough water.  Which made me queasy. I had a headache and I was dizzy.  Fatigue? Yes. Irritable? Absolutely. But I went to work anyway, because if nothing else, I’m a responsible drunkard.

Einstein said that, “The only source of knowledge is experience.”

What had I knowledge(d) from this experience?
1). I’d never really been hung over (ever) and now at 35, I was.
2). I’m getting old. I know this b/c I googled drinking effects and age. The internet said I was old.
3). I only had one drink! WTF?????
4). Drinking is bad for dieting and dieting is bad for drinking.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s