Last night I had three sequential dreams in which I was trying to force friends to eat linseed soaked in water, mucilagenous gobbets of saturated linseed which they refused to take from my outstretched hand. It is not that mysterious a dream sequence because I bought a large packet of linseed last week and had two thoughts as I put it away in the grocery cupboard.
1) Too much linseed for one person. Why does nobody else except me eat linseed?
2) Linseed is good for human digestion. Everyone should eat linseed.
So there I go along the sidewalks of the dreaming unconscious, offering soggy linseed to all and sundry. I have the same kinds of dreams about telling people to get sober and feeling that sobriety is good for everyone, but my conscious mind knows better. There is a kindly but tedious balding bachelor who lives on the far side of the village and goes from door to door giving away copies of ‘the only trustworthy translation of God’s Word, the King James’ Bible’ and I might offer him a small packet of linseed in return. Us missionary types should support one other.
On one of my favourite forums, people have been listing their favourite movies. I recall going to see many of the films but cannot remember what they were about because I was drunk at the time. What a depressing thought. All those spaghetti Westerns with stony-eyed unshaven tongue-tied Clint Eastwood and I can’t tell Josie Wales, Outlaw from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
My housemate went off shopping this morning and is planning to grill lamb chops this evening. We are going to supper with our friend Niall the chef tomorrow night and hosting a crazy kind of Mexican buffet al fresco lunch on Sunday with spicy buffalo wings, fajitas, tacos, sour cream dips, chile con carne, a strong grated cheese, al0ng with an original chile and origanum mole I shall be concocting from a recipe found in a 1967 Texas whodunit. Hola! What fun.
In the past, Friday afternoons were prolonged and exhausting mental battles about whether or not I should drink, how much I should drink, how to drink as much as I wanted unnoticed, what to do if I couldn’t afford enough alcohol, how much to openly buy at the bottle store, why I should split my alcohol purchases between two bottle stores to fool the till cashiers who might otherwise suspect I had a ‘problem’, what to say to anyone who bumped into me coming out of the bottle store, why I would need to not answer the phone at all if I started with vodka rather than more innocuous wine, why I should try to save some alcohol for the next morning, what I should buy from the chemist in case I should wake up very ill the next morning, how soon I could start in on the alcohol and end the misery.
These days I just pester dream friends with offers of linseed, which may be progress.
“And we have ceased fighting anything or anyone–even alcohol.
For by this time sanity will have returned.“
Alcoholics Anonymous p.84