A workday-by-workday record of when I first wanted a cocktail and of what variety
by Jim Martin
In 2009, writer Jim Martin began a 30-day journal to document his regular drinking cravings.
Monday, 6/29
6:13pm – I went most the day in a blur. I was hating myself so much that I was sure I couldn’t manage to drink. I didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t finish writing anything even with two days off and still I expected a reward? I thought I was full of shit… that was until the sun had fallen low enough that it blasted through the tinted office windows at work and warm shards of light landed on my cheek and shoulder – reminding me that a bottle of rose wine (preferably something from Spain or southern France) was a facilitator, not an inhibitor. I smiled.
Tuesday, 6/30
3:46pm – It was a warmer afternoon. There was a citrus smell that crossed my lips – like an over the top Sprite commercial that I could taste. I licked my lips and knew I would be drinking Gin & Tonics the second I got home…
Wednesday, 7/1
5:13pm – Happy July 1st was written across my door when I walked back from the bathroom. I wanted to drain a case of Miller High-Lifes to celebrate. At this point in my life the champagne of beer had become the desired replacement for my summer vacation. I rubbed my face. Yeah, I wanted it in a can.
Thursday, 7/2
4:34pm – I fell asleep at my desk and I woke back up with a trickle of drool on the cusp of my lips. I could have pulled it back in, but instead I started to consider what this meant… I wasn’t hungry, so it wasn’t saliva for hunger… but I wasn’t really thirsty either… I was dry. I wanted a chilled shot of bourbon. A large bourbon on the rocks and a golden suds chaser. I wanted to start the holiday weekend off by saying, “fuck yes, America – I am a drunk, and you’re my whore.”
