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Confessions From the Past

The Chapter About Being Drunk

M A Y

Your first week of being a music teacher, you came home and got so drunk at 4 o’ clock in the afternoon that you passed out cold by 5:30 and were so hung over and dehydrated the next day you literally almost fainted while teaching a class.

They do not tell you how hard this shit is, I swear.

Tonight, although you started a little later, is fairly similar. (Except you actually ate dinner and drank some water so hopefully tomorrow isn’t also a disaster.) I won’t even actually get into details. It’s just the end of the school year. Your first ‘end of the school year’ as a teacher. And that calls for a wine. And a lot of it, as you may remember.

Right now, you are buried under a schedule FULL of programs and recitals and lesson planning and practicing working overtime and socializing with parents and other teachers alike. You’re also secretly interviewing for places in Nashville whenever you can since you’re finally about to make the move back in a few months. You’ve learned the joys of getting sick every other week because of the stress, long hours, and the cute little germ factories you work with everyday, and are basically just trying to keep your head above water.

Three years ago, you were stressed. About other things, of course. Life, love, school…love. Not the point. The point is, you got so drunk at a house party you threw up four times all over the flowers that lined their porch. The next thing I remember is my roommate carrying me up the stairs to our room in the middle of the night and telling me I needed to sleep on the floor but instead, I made it to my top bunk-bed. You must’ve passed out for a while and then made it to the bathroom though because the next thing I remember is throwing up in the bathroom a few times before deciding you were sober enough for a shower. But you woke up the next morning with a big gob of conditioner in your hair and only one leg shaved so that probably wasn’t the best idea.

The time before that, about six months prior, you stayed up playing guitar and singing songs at 3am with half the people you’d just met at a party (who you randomly found out were in a barber shop quartet) while the other half gathered around and applauded as if it were a Beyonce concert.

You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all of this. NO. I do NOT want you to become and alcoholic.

The point I’m trying to make is, you’ve got some good stories to tell. And no, not all of them have to start with you being extremely drunk. Buuuuuut, maybe it’s time to start learning to loosen up a little. Life is short, you’re young, and jobs come and go. You’ll probably have many more nights with a bottle or two of wine because life got rough. And I hope you do. I hope you never forget about the conditioner in your hair and shave only one leg again because that was FUN. (And horrible. But FUN.) And you could use some more than anyone I know.

So keep grinding, because we both know you can work harder than anyone. But remember to get drunk every now and again.

Or just take hot bathe and relax and drink some water…Maybe interweave a little of both because the alcoholic thing is not a thing I want to write a chapter on…

Maybe this doesn’t really make sense though. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.