Gimme a Drink Before I Die!

George Jean Nathan said, "I drink to make other people more interesting." He must have been at the same party as me last night. Because last night I endured a display of social ineptitude that brought a new intensity to the word "excruciating."

During the course of the evening I learned that we should be grateful for mass mailings because they're single-handedly saving the post office (what a relief to know my bills will continue to arrive.. in someone else's mailbox). I learned that someone's distant, dead relative won a Nobel Prize in 1928 for doing something with soil (perhaps the knowledge that his medium would eventually become his permanent residence prompted an otherwise inexplicable fixation with dirt). And I learned that a tissue placed against a vent will reveal which way the air is flowing through it (I don't care if the guy who shared this little nugget with me was 75 - you know he's smokin' dope to know this old trick!).

I am an interviewer by profession - my job requires me to look interested even when I'm not; to ask questions as if I really care about the answer. Perhaps I cannot turn that off. And perhaps the bores are picking up on that vibe and sensing that I will remain when most others would walk away. Because they flock to me like dying sinners to a confessional.

Last night it would have been nice to gulp down some ancient vine zin while stuck in my predicatment. I would have even welcomed some swill from a box. That way I could have drained my glass and used it as an excuse to escape. But, no. Thanks to this cleanse I did not have that option. I couldn't even use an empty plate to steal away - there were no cleanse-friendly options at the buffet. So I simply stood there, hands dangling by my sides, with nowhere to go.

After I finished screaming a string of expletives in my head, I reminded myself that I had chosen to be at this gathering, that I was there out of respect for the host, and that a couple of hours of utter tedium wouldn't kill me. And maybe that's the lesson learned - that sometimes you just have to endure whatever is right in front of you, even if it's uncomfortable. But if you stay in it and sit with it, it will pass.

Eventually I extricated myself from the narcolepsy-inducing conversations. And eventually I laughed about them. A glass of wine wouldn't have made things any better; it just would have made me feel more tired and headachy this morning. And running off to the buffet table would have loaded me up with extra, empty calories. But if I hadn't been cleansing, I probably would have turned to those crutches in attempt to endure (and escape) the situation.

I feel good about the choice I made this week, and for sticking with it last night. And today I feel great. And, in my opinion, that's exactly the reason why taking a breather during the holidays is such a good idea.

Here's to a kickass Day 4!