I used to be in the PR game. It involved lots of socializing with people I wouldn’t normally spend a New York Minute with. B.O.R.I.N.G. All sorts of events, parties, with many journalists, heaps of corporate launches, corporate suit types, and lots of product debuts. L.A.T.E. N.I.G.H.T.S. Trays of cheesy savoury calorie-rich thirst-inducing canopies and always, always open bars.
My job included being the buzzy glue to get the right people to these various social dos, keep the small talk going … and make it all seem so fun. I used to think I was such a social butterfly and could talk to anybody about anything, no matter how boring they or the topics were. 🍷🍷 🍷🍷 🍷🍷 🍷🍷 🍷🍷 in hand, of course.
I left that game awhile ago – though sadly I brought my drinking habit along with me. I was under the illusion that it served me well, and made me not bored – but instead more sparkling, funny and entertaining in boring situations.
And then those glasses of wine creeped into helping me numb the painful situations I was in.
Alcohol, good for so many uses ……
Now, with my beer goggles off, I have come to the stark realization that I am not a social butterfly. I don’t really have patience for attending things I don’t want to attend. Or lots of late nights with people I don’t know. Or hanging around boring people, talking boring stuff, and watching drinkers progressing from one free drink to too many free drinks. And that irritating raucous laughter at silly stuff. There always seems to be one who had a screeching laugh that cuts glass (I hope that was never me 😬).
I acknowledge how I used drink to endure boredom or pain.
I no longer use alcohol to mask them.