Goin home

OK, a productive day. No gossip. Nose to grindstone.

Anxiety attack about home at lunchtime. Talked to him, eventually told him I hate walking in on him and the kid fighting, and on him with a drink in his hand.

Talked to him at 5--he's sober. I can tell on the phone.

So that's good.

Last night and today

We watched our show on tape as a family, with his koozy-cup of gin on ice. After the kid went to bed, I took a bath while he watched some car-creation show and drank gin. I went to the basement, watched the end of "Airport" with him, and then went to bed. He was uncoordinated and slurry. He's done half a bottle this week. I can't stand to be around him.

Woke up about 3--alone in bed. He passed out/slept in the recliner again. I couldn't sleep--read for awhile, last week's Entertainment Weekly.

He came to bed sometime between me turning the light back off and 5:30. I got up at 6. He got up around 8, stinking of gin-sweat. Ugh.

Today I work till about 6. I wonder what the odds of him drinking before I get home would be. I really don't need to wonder--I know he will have had at least one drink. Hah. One drink that never ends from 3 p.m. to 10 p.m.

Maybe I'm wrong.

But I'm probably not.