Tag: alcohol mention

Honestly, I do get concerned about my partner’s drinking sometimes. I’d be a lot more worried if it happened more often, but he really doesn’t seem to have a lot of brakes once he does get started.

(And, as I have commented before, that also seems to be a major socially acceptable pressure release valve to the point that he can even talk much about what’s been bothering him. I have plenty of my own shit going on, but being wound that tight can’t be good for a person even without overdoing the booze to cope.)

And pub culture here really does not help with that. Thinking again with the extended pub crawl with people from work. After several hours with an open bar at that work dinner šŸ˜±

I don’t even want to bring it up unless it should turn into a more frequent thing. Which it hasn’t since we got together. But, he was in quite a shape getting home tonight.

clatterbane:

The good news: I finally figured out why the doorbell has been going off randomly multiple times a day and driving me up the wall. I forgot that Mr. C had accidentally unplugged the receiver Sunday, and that apparently messed up the pairing. Who knows what it was picking up on before I unplugged it, but it wasnā€™t our button unit which wasnā€™t ringing it at all when I tested. (Or any of the close neighborsā€™ bells, or I would have seen somebody outside another door at some point.)

The not so great news: Fixing that will have to wait until after Mr. C gets home after some office Christmas dinner thing. Iā€™m hoping just pairing them again will do the trick, without having to yank the battery out of the button unit. (Which the manual wasnā€™t helping me get openā€¦) But, that receiver is far enough from the front door that I need to either grow Plastic Manā€™s arms, or get someone else to push one of the buttons within the 10 second pairing window šŸ˜¬

(I purposely got this new doorbell unit with multiple receivers, so I could put another one in the bedroom. That one kept picking up interference and going off inappropriately even with it paired properly, with no obvious way of choosing a different frequency. Which was aggravating enough. Now hoping we can at least get Receiver #1 up and running again, without it doing the same thing šŸ˜§)

The “after some office Christmas dinner thing” turned into “…and also an extended pub crawl afterwards with some people from work”. (On a Tuesday šŸ™„)

I kinda figured the delay was something like that, but I was starting to get a little impatient.

But anyway, he finally got home and that did fix the problem.

Taking your pet abroad if thereā€™s no Brexit deal

Oh my, looks like DEFRA actually has some published guidance on this, since September.

Mr. C came home a while ago pretty late from another drinks after work night: sloshed, showing some worry, and talking about going ahead and getting the cats set up with EU pet passports just in case.

Guessing there was probably some more discussion that got him thinking about it more urgently tonight, but he also said tonight that this political mess has come up in every single one-on-one conversation heā€™s had pretty much since the referendum vote.

(The Mr. Calm Cool and Collected act kinda breaks down when heā€™s been drinking, thatā€™s for sure. Sounded like heā€™s been a lot more worried about the somewhat near future than heā€™s been letting on normally, which is honestly not that much of a surprise knowing him.)

He also brought up not being sure how best to go about moving the fish. But, by golly, if anyone is urgently hauling ass for Sweden, everyone is going! He apparently felt like this was important to emphasize šŸ˜…

So yeah, while Iā€™m pretty concerned about what might happen with this ongoing political clusterfuck, and how I might manage with some practical details as bad as my health situation has been? If heā€™s feeling a need to emphasize while disinhibited that Nobody In This Household Will Be Left Behind On His Watch, Dammitā€“explicitly extended to fish he really doesnā€™t take much interest in other than the fact that I care about them?

I am at least less concerned that heā€™s gotten quietly fed up with my bullshit to the point that he doesnā€™t want to live with it anymore.

(Which is totally a product of my own jerkbrain, and nothing to do with anything he has actually said or done. Just to be clear. I am a worrier, what can I say. Though both of us avoiding conflict past the point where itā€™s necessarily healthyā€“and for similar reasons AFAICTā€“doesnā€™t always help set my mind at ease. Maybe not his either.)

Taking your pet abroad if thereā€™s no Brexit deal

tilthat:

TIL at George Washingtonā€™s 1787 farewell party, 56 people drank 60 bottles of claret, 54 bottles of Madeira, 8 bottles of hard cider, 8 bottles of whiskey, 22 bottles of porter, and 7 large bowls of alcoholic punch; the bar tab cost $15 000 in todayā€™s money.

via reddit.com

George Washington Gets a Belated Audit

That booze bill is from a bit later, after they started paying George a regular salary rather than “oh, just cover my expenses and we’ll be good!”. But, still a decent example of how that expense account ate up around 2% of the new country’s GDP a few years earlier.

(Kitman’s book on Open Library. I haven’t read it yet, but looks interesting.)

73rr4b1735:

Iā€™ve seen an alcoholic old man have a seizure and nearly die because nobody thought he should have any money, ā€œheā€™d just spend it on alcoholā€. Youā€™re damn right he would have, the seizures from delirium tremens are easily fatal and deeply terrifying. If someone would have given him just two dollars he would not have had a seizure in the middle of the street and would not have split his skull open when he hit the sidewalk. Its a damn miracle he did not die from the callous apathy of his fellow humans.

Source: ithelpstodream

clatterbane:

I was starting to get a little worried, thinking that Mr. C might have gotten stuck on the way home thanks to overheated train rails.

(One tabloid take from today: SHOCK RAIL WARNING: Trains to stop running within HOURS as 37C heat MELTS tracks across UK šŸ™„)

Erm, nope, but I have gotten stuck between stations in a baking tin can for at least an hour at a time beforeā€“thanks to unsafely expanded tracks not rated for higher temperatures. Not much fun, to say the least.

Anyway, I finally messaged him after 8 p.m. to find out where he was. Not train delays, just an after work end of the month pub stop. Which is fine in itself, but now Iā€™m not so much concerned as irked that he didnā€™t think to drop a message again šŸ˜¬

And, just about 3 hours later:

(Guessing the diner is supposed to be a doner kebab with chips instead of the pita, to make it vaguely celiac friendly.)

He may be worse at keeping track of time than I am once he’s had so much as a drop, and he seems to forget that phones exist. But he is offering to feed me, so I’m slightly less put out now šŸ˜