Day 744: There’s Vomit on my Sweater Already

It’s weird, the things that get stuck in your head. Right now, it’s a going-to-sleep conversation from last night that made me laugh out loud, which is just a riff on the Eminem “Lose Yourself” bit “there’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti” (and if poetry is detail, I know the guy’s a creep and all, but damn that couplet packs in a lot of information).

So now it’s permanently in my brain as

there’s vomit on his sweater already
mom’s a Yeti

and that has just been cracking me up all morning. I don’t know how these things get stuck up in there.

All right! A bit of a stall on weight, and body fat (I just ran a calculation to be sure the body fat scale works, too, and isn’t just delivering the same ratio of body weight every day). But yesterday was a huge one for snack resistance, with delicious temptation laid right in my path, and I’m happy to have abstained. Reminiscent of “February Sprint” last year, this whole “stay on the path” thing seems to be a mantra that really works for me.

The key difference is this isn’t a sprint, this is a lifestyle, and there’s a certain amount of allowable nostalgia to that. “Ah, I remember when I used to grab a bunch of sandwiches and enjoy them”, in the sense of “ah, I remember a cold IPA on the deck on a hot summer day”. But in both cases, ending with “…but that’s not what I do now.” I suck at meditation, but I think the early lessons in “let the thought enter your brain, don’t fight it, but then let it slide right back out again” is a useful one.

Day 172: Comedy is Important

Almost six months into sobriety. I’m a bit surprised that I haven’t talked about comedy yet — it’s been important.

Getting up a bit late today for Staycation reasons, but I’m actually looking forward to a day of building and yardwork. Why? Because I’ve got a good backlog of comedy podcasts to listen to.

Paraphrasing the late, great Harris Wittels: “mothereffers wanna laugh.” And it’s true. When you get your sobriety ears on, you start hearing a lot about distraction — and often comedy — in people’s stories.

So I decided to splash out on a Stitcher Premium account yesterday (and I’ve still got a while in the free trial), as one of those things where I realized that having a ready supply of things I think are funny is helpful. And it costs less per month than a pint of good beer. So I think it’s a good spend.

I’m happy so far. Job One was to start catching up on Questions For Lennon, a podcast in which a comedian pretends to be John Lennon, back from the dead to answer your questions. I think it’s inherently funny. Like, I can just listen to Mike Hanford do Lennon reading the phone book and crack up.

Mike Hanford as John Lennon
Just looking at this, I want to bust up. I don’t know. I’m an idiot.

My wife thinks I’m nuts. We similar tastes in humour to a point, then we diverge — I definitely have more of an appetite for things that are just silly than she does.

Comedy is important, because sobriety can’t be grim.

I guess my thing is if you treat not drinking as a relentless, white-knuckled hellish battle against alcohol, you’re dooming yourself to an extent. You have to keep it light. Find things that make you laugh and keep laughing.

If you spend your days in a dark room reflecting grimly on your struggles, your struggles get bigger. If you spend your days in sunshine laughing at things that tickle you, your problems recede.

Anyway. Comedy. It’s important to me.