Updated: Jan 29
I bought some mince pies today, it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. Mince Pies identify that time of year when I don't have to survive on Kale and bliss fucking balls. I can indulge. I got home and shoved the flimsy foil into the oven.
I could smell that sweet pastry as it browned, Imagine the crust crumbling in my mouth, . Of course, I bit too early, the black molten goo spread around my gums and I got third degree burns, I had to wait for a painful few minutes while the beige beauties cooled on the rack.
I poked at one, boiled the kettle then put the pie on a little side plate and plonked myself down on the sofa. I was ready to enjoy my festive alone moment. The little foil case dropped off onto the floor as I took a bite. I greedily gobbled one whole pie in three bites. yum.
I recognised the taste after it was too late. The tasty paste had passed down my throat, it was now sitting heavy in my gut. I licked my lips, the taste was strong, it reminded me of Christmas, all cosy and full of love... what was it? raisins? fruit? the pastry? Who was I kidding?
It was Brandy. fuck,
I had consumed booze for the first time since quitting...What was worse was that it felt good. I was happy, I felt rebellious having broken my own rules. I ate another one. Shit it felt amazing. A misdemeanour. I wondered if I would feel tipsy? Would the week now end with me stealing bowls of mussels from strangers, turning the bowl upside down and downing the wine sauce or necking jelly vodkas by the weekend. I knew it wouldn't but I did wonder if this was the point on my booze free escapade where I had failed. Did that pie represent a relapse?
I ate a third, no-one needed to know. Pie secrets. My new thing. I could hide them in my handbag and nibble when I felt the urge.
I felt sick afterwards. What would they say at AA? don't eat boozy foods? maybe I need to go and get the low down on how the real alcoholics do this. Do they check every ingredient?
Can my life become any more boring than it is... what am I becoming? the kind of person that stands in the aisles of Coles reading every fucking label. er - no thats. Being sober at Christmas is punishment enough.going without mince pies is ridiculous and not something I can do.
Anyway, a mince pie vice doesn't seem too bad compared to most other vices. It doesn't involve me flashing my saggy boobs at a policeman or sleeping with a taxi driver. A sugar hangover is a bearable side effect. I have to admit to one thing, eating that pie had me fantasising about Baileys, swilling ice in a small tumbler, the sides of the glass turning a milky brown.....
I paused and thought about it. I have never just had that one Baileys, I drank the bottle then opened the port, tripped over the turkey then puked in the bucket that holds the Christmas tree. My honey glazed view of my drinking just one is a lie.
a lie that fills me with dread, I don't want to be her again, but surly one more mince ie won't hurt? will it?.
Pic - Note: fancy dress is not as much fun sober.