One time, I was at home working and my fiance came home unannounced to have lunch with me. Well, it was about 12:30, and for some reason, on that day, I had decided that noon was early enough to start hitting the bottle. I justified it by telling myself that I was channeling the great Charles Bukowski, the heroic Hunter S. Thompson, geniuses who glamorize the combination of alcohol and the written word.
But when I heard my fiance at the door, I got really embarrassed. Because let’s be real — I’m not Bukowski or Thomspon. I’m not a great, lumbering, womanizing drunk, no matter how hard I aspire to be. I’m me, a chick who sits at home and writes, and on this particular day I was a chick who sits at home and writes and drinks, and the addition of that little clause made me feel like I had suddenly gone from quiet and pensive to troubled and reclusive. (It’s a fine line to begin with.)
Anyway, I tried to deftly conceal the alcohol by putting it to the left of my laptop, which obviously didn’t work, and only made my fiance laugh even harder when he realized that not only was I drinking whiskey at lunchtime, but I was trying to hide it.
Which brings me to my point. I have since learned from that, and if I ever drank again during the day, I am not embarrassed — not that I ever do, just to be clear, in case anyone in charge over there is reading this — but in any case, in theory, I think any time is go time, kind of depending on what you have to do for the rest of the day. Think about it — brunch: bellinis. Mimosas. Lunch: beer. Whiskey. Vodka shots. You know?
What do you think? How early in the day is too early to drink?