Tag: drink

Stress

Hamar WilliamsLeave a comment

I think I’m suffering from a little stress. I won’t say what but I’ve been working on a little project recently and it should have it’s first day on Friday. There’s stuff still to arrange and what I have so far I don’t think is good enough. Humour me because I’m clearly not giving away any information. Anyway today I have been in the most ridiculous mood. I nearly lost my shit in the bank because I was trying to set something up and despite this thing being through the bank the two women had never heard of it. I wasn’t rude to them because what’s the point and also I must admit I forgot some of the information I was supposed to bring, internally though I was smashing the place up. I let it all out once back in the car. Genuinely I was quite surprised at how pissed off I was. What is obvious is that I was just angry with myself for being stupid and not bringing the necessary paperwork but even then I was surprised at the level of anger I felt even when I was fully aware it was against myself.

I’ll be the first to admit that in the last ten plus years I’ve only had a handful of stressful situations. I never found travelling difficult because there was always a solution. It’s situations in which I would be on show and could mess up that would be the worst. Exams for example. This thing starting on Friday though is important but not especially. I’m not even sure what I’m stressing about really or why I’m getting myself in such a state if it’s not stress. I just don’t know how people manage to deal with stressful situations. You hear about ways people manage it but I don’t really know my way. Maybe thats the problem, I lack a way. I once thought meditation would be good but I never stuck at it. People drink or smoke but probably best if I avoid that route. Maybe I just need to get a boxing bag and sweat it out, that could work, it’ll have a duel function too.

The strange thing is I can’t really describe what it is I really mean by my reaction or whether it’s stress. I don’t really get flustered and usually I manage to do what I need to do relatively straightforwardly but I’ve been on an rampage mode today all the same. It also hasn’t allowed me to actually focus and carry out the necessary tasks I needed to do even though I feel in my mind if I just sat down and focused on them I could bash it out. As I say this I wonder then if it is a case of using the energy, learning to harness it. This out of control monster is simply the result of out of control energy. I have the energy and the desire for the project but the mind lacks focus, the mind is not in control. Perhaps then my way will involve me learning how to manage the wild energy, is that the way though or is that finding a way to find a way. Circles again. I just need to find a harness for that dragon. Easy.

Relax…All Will Be Fine

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As someone who has spent time abroad and socialised with people who do not either serve food or run hotels, it has long been brought to my attention that the British people have somewhat of a reputation for consuming large quantities of alcohol. While I don’t deny others countries do drink large amounts too, or at least the fun ones do, we, along with the Irish come to think of it, are renowned for being the drunks of Europe. This then seems to have been confirmed with the latest news relating to the lockdown we’re facing in the UK.

There has been much debate about what exactly should be classed as an essential service and it’s one of those issues that nearly every wannabe expert has an opinion on. Construction sites for example have been a highly controversial issue because while they can’t ban construction that relates to potential virus related work, the guy building the patio next door could probably not be classed as essential and immediately necessary. It would be nice to sit out in the sun with a nice gin and tonic while isolating though come to think of it, so that’s a toughie. We have though taken it to a level that only the comics writing this black comedy could have dreamt of. As the country battles a world wide pandemic; Off Licences of all things have been deemed as being of the utmost importance and essential to the smooth running of the country. For those from countries that use other names an off licence is what we call our bottle shops / liquor shops / alcohol shops. Yes they serve but one purpose.

It is important in times like this to be honest and admit there is something absurd about this that makes me proud. Cultures need something that sets them apart from each other; the Italians talk incessantly, the Greeks argue for pleasure and the French are arseholes, but that is there thing, that is their national identity they take it out into the world. As the south of Spain can attest we export drunks and even in times of crisis we are sticking to this national identity. It makes me proud we’re being true to ourselves. How are we supposed to suffer through at least three weeks of isolation? Stuck inside homes with partners we hate and kids we have to love? So much energy has been put into avoiding our families and we find ourselves forced into their company. Without the ability to keep a steady level of intoxication it may be worth going out in public and catching the virus just to get some space. The British people can not be told to do something, the inner child comes out and they insist on the opposite even if they don’t really want it. All those poor soles who were forced to leave the cities and endure serene villages and countryside over the weekend simply because they had been told to stay indoors. At least give to poor bastards alcohol. Just imagine the damage a sober populace could do, I’m so relieved they saw sense.

Merry Christmas

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Its three o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Day and I’m only having my first drink now. Strangely late for such a typically drunken day, usually my first is with breakfast. It’s funny how today has become such a day of drunken silliness. It’s most people’s day off and what is the one way we now to relax, drink. That is not me being critical either because I actually don’t mind at all, may even be one of my more favourite traditions. The plan today had been to escape to the pub pre-dinner for a few but it appears that there is one thing more important for the Irish than alcohol, apologies for such a ridiculous stereotype, and that is family. Unlike Scotland, there are no pubs open today and while I complain for my personal loss I commend them for not selling their arse entirely like we have, at least for one day. I should find out whether restaurants or pubs with food are open for traditional Christmas lunches for people but I doubt it too.

No real dramas today yet either except for my dog attempting to eat one of the children which was not ideal. I’m hoping for some boardgames later, it’s usually the only day of the year I can persuade my Dad to play something like that so I take full advantage. Most games these days I don’t know though as it seems to be big business again and they’re pumping them out too fast to keep up with. Trivial pursuit was always my favourite but that seems to have fallen by the wayside, and I’ll suspend my avoidance of dice game or any game involving luck for this day only.

There was an article someone had put up on Facebook today which I never bothered reading but it was about the various versions of middle class Christmas we’re experiencing and for sure the one I play will be there. Again, this is not a criticism, it is what it is and I love Christmas, mine is generally a pleasant one, so how could I criticise. It’s more amusing is all. I am currently hiding away in my room writing this and my Dad keeps bringing beers through to me, he is good, he performs a very vital role on these days in particular. Thing is now though I think I could very easily have myself a little pre-dinner nap just to charge the batteries, I’ve certainly not slept enough over these last few days.

That’s it really, I haven’t got much to say today. It’s just Christmas you know.

‘Tis the Season

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It’s that time of year again that everyone gets excited, drinks too much, loves family, drinks a bit more and hates family. The reason I talk about Christmas, I’m sure you’ve already guessed, is that I have been wrapping presents. It is easily my least favourite part of the whole experience as I find it so very tedious. I have obvious reservations about Christmas, the commercialisation has spread like rabies and it can create the same rabid affect on people, but it is also the same people who wince when they see shop decorations in September. People still seem to have retained a semblance of decency in this regard despite the best efforts of those trying to sell joy.

What is it then that makes people enjoy Christmas so much, it can’t just be the buying and selling of presents, despite best efforts our happiness isn’t programmed into the strength of the economy and has nothing to do with GDP. And despite all my reservations I must confess that after the horrors of realising I have to buy presents and think, I actually quite enjoy it, there’s something satisfying realising you’ve had a good idea. Perhaps then it comes back to the initial idea in the very first sentence. The obvious statement to make is that Christmas brings people together, and while that is cheesy and not entirely accurate with it’s disgustingly positive connotations, there is still some truth in it. It may be that in bringing people together and creating an environment in which people can eat, drink and be merry, it allows them to forget the drudgery of their existence for a few days. The highs and lows of life and all the drama that that entails, loving and then hating family, is always something us sensation hooked humans thrive on, evidenced surely by the spike in domestic violence over the period.

Yet we keep on coming back. Year after year we get excited for Christmas, or at least in my little middle class bubble everyone I know does. I suspect it is also an incredibly stressful period for millions of people out there as they take on the new debt that’ll take them until the following Christmas to pay off or spend it without a loved one for the first time. Does that make me enjoy my Christmas any less, and would it make me a bad person if I didn’t let it. It would certainly take a selfish martyr to tell me so. In which case we embrace the bubble we live in. Eat, drink, fuck and fight just as we did last year, and just as we’ll do for a thousand to come.

A Shinning Moon

Hamar WilliamsLeave a comment

To carry on the misery, the deeply held pain myself and many others are feeling about this election gone bad, like milk but not the good stuff you can turn into something tasty if you know how, the bad stuff good for nothing, the stench so bad it goes straight in the bin, lumps floating on its surface like the boils of decay on putrid skin, the skin that covers up corruption and wanton self-serving betrayal. But I won’t, how about something more positive to mask the disappointment of hope smashed on the rocks of despair. What do we do when we want to forget pain, we stuff it deep within the folds of our soul, or we drink, we drink in search of the perpetual warmth of alcoholism or at the very least a nice whisky to take the edge off it.

If my phone hadn’t run out of battery and I hadn’t lost my charger now would be a great time to add a photo. In fact if you are reading this and there is a photo attached it means I went back to it and added one subsequently. To add photographic evidence of my successful attempt at creating the elixir of forgetfulness, the murky liquid gold, the self made man to the Etonian heir, the home-brew to the hipster microbrewery. You guessed it? Well understandable if not, but today I took my first step on a (continued) journey of suppression and made myself thirty-five pints of beer. This may be the start of something life changing, especially if my mate gets his way and we start producing enough to sell, but for now its just a combination of curiosity and pleasure. It is unclear whether it’ll be a success and I’m not necessarily excited as I’ve managed to convince myself that somehow I’ll mess it up, I just can’t quite believe its going to work somehow. All the same I’m pretty pleased with myself.

In about six days it should be suitably fermented to bottle and in a further two weeks after that it should be perfect to drink. Therefore in roughly twenty days from now I’ll be able to start on the road to suppressing my emotions and living in a world of denial and ruby ale drunkenness. In between then though we have three weeks together of me either twiddling my thumbs or feeling sorry myself. I could just get over it of course and get on with life but then where’s the wallowing, where’s the self-pity, what would be the point of making all that lovely beer.