The Road

Sore, sore throat this morning - only got the one work away day and then interview this week, great! Avoiding the autumnal plagues has been all down to the excellent Vicks First Defence Nasal Spray, which is unavailable in Poland but which I have sent to me in an in my Red Cross Parcels, together with 250ml of Worcestershire Sauce, 18 hearty bangers and 16 rashers of smoky. Sadly I’m fresh out of nasal spray and the blighters have got me.

It might also have something to do with wandering giddily down the street in the early hours on Friday with nary a coat or jacket on, of course.

Recently my memory loss and black dog moments from drinking seem to have increased markedly, and not necessarily in relation to the amount of alcohol I’ve drunk. I’d like to blame the culture I come from, where drinking which would be considered heavy in any other society is common place. Alternatively, I could blame the difference in strength of Polish alcohols or the fact I am poor so vodka, something I am not really used to even after all these years, is a common option. All of those are true but ignore my own responsibility in all of this.

I got addicted to smarties when I was a teenager. I would go to the school vending machine (remember those? One day we’ll tell our cyborg grandchildren about school vending machines and they’ll laugh at our collective stupidity) flip open one of the coloured lids with that pleasing pop sound and funnel the entire pack into my mouth. And then do it again. I eventually forced myself to stop when I started to get crushing migraines.

As with smarties, so with online poker. As a student I would play hour after hour, day after day. I found myself getting up to go to the toilet in the middle of the night, then feeling that compulsive pulse of adrenaline and returning to switch on the computer to get in a few dozen hands before dawn broke.

The lesson that poker and smarties taught me a long time ago is that I do have a compulsive personality. This is not necessarily a bad thing: if you want to bring a very intense focus on some issue or problem then it’s a positive bonus (Like when I read the entire of the Lord of the Rings in three eight hour sessions at 13) But taking all the information in context, I have a feeling that I am getting that smartie migraine warning again.

It doesn’t affect my work but it certainly does my personal life. There are so many projects and things I’d like to do that limp along because I spend Saturdays groaning and cursing the light. So many places I haven’t visited because I’ve slept in until travel was unfeasible, so many people I’ve put off meeting or engaging with as a result of that see-saw queasiness that now last two days, not one. So many consequences delayed.

I am writing this not as some kind of a plea for help but merely as a step on the road to understanding the issue a little better. Thinking of a life bez alkoholu is rather more difficult than a life bez smarties.

Myślisz, że twoi dziadowie patrzą? że ważą cie na szali? Według jakich kryteriów? Nie ma szali, a dziadowie leżą martwi w ziemi.

Coming up soon... busty matrons through the window, the graffiti of Powiśle, Fighting Cockroaches and Other Bugs and Babcias in slafroki. Yes, PzU, the bottom feeding English language blog about Poland, is back...