Out of Sorts

I told my sponsor I was "out of sorts" last night. She said she had a bag of "licorice all sorts" and I was welcome to some. ha ha. I love licorice all sorts, and would eat the whole bag if I it were in front of me. But as it is, my sponsor is on the Western Slope of Colorado, and here I am, on the Front Range.

I went to a meeting I don't normally go to last night. It is funny, you get to see faces that have ceased showing up at your other meetings. In one case, I got to see a man who looks and acts just like a newcomer, but I knew back in the early 90s in my old home group. I have seen him a lot lately. He has never acknowledged that he remembers me, but then I haven't acknowledged remembering him either. I have always thought he was a scary guy. He doesn't talk about drinking or recovery, just wacky, frightening shit.

I need to get out and run and get to work. I feel utterly uninspired. I recall that after the last 2 triathlons, the week after the race has been hard. Anti-climax, tired, spent physically, and no immediate goal to focus on.

"Personally, I take the attitude that I intend never to drink again. This is somewhat different from saying, 'I will never drink again.' The latter attitude sometimes gets people in trouble because it is an undertaking on a personal basis to do what we alcoholics never could do. It is too much an act of will and leaves too little room for the idea that God will release us from the drink obsession provided we follow the AA program." -- As Bill Sees It, p. 16