Showing posts with label picking up towels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label picking up towels. Show all posts

Sunday, 6 September 2015

Alcohol Induced Rage - Part 2

On day 15, way back in the Mists of Time (March 17th), I wrote this post on Alcohol Induced Rage.

It was inspired by Jeremy Clarkson, who lost his £1million a year job with the BBC for decking a producer who bought him a cold meat platter instead of a steak at the end of a day filming.

Jeremy had reminded me of the terrible red mists of fury that would descend after a drinking bout, over the tiniest of things.

(Incidentally, Jeremy recently picked up a new contract with Amazon Prime worth £10million a year. If only my alcoholic rages were anything like as profitable!)

I haven't lost my temper for a while - one of the great benefits of going sober is Zen-like calm (at least relatively speaking).

But I did last night.

I was in bed, about to drop off. Mr SM was in the bathroom. As he closed the bathroom door I heard a whuuumph! as the wet towel I'd recently picked up off the floor and hung up hit the floor again.

Needless to say, Mr SM (who must have heard it) paid no attention, and climbed into bed.

I sat bolt upright in bed and yelled THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD IT WITH THE TOWELS!

Mr SM looked totally taken aback. Rabbit in headlights. There was no stopping me.

I PICK UP YOUR TOWELS! I PICK UP #1'S TOWELS. #2 AND #3'S TOWELS. IF THE DOG USED TOWELS I WOULD HAVE TO PICK THOSE UP TOO! NO-ONE ELSE IN THIS FAMILY EVER PICKS UP A TOWEL. IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME THE WHOLE HOUSE WOULD GRADUALLY FILL UP WITH TOWELS UNTIL WE ALL DROWNED IN WHITE FLUFFY TOWELS!

As I paused for breath, Mr SM put his hand on my arm (very brave - I could have bitten it off), and said - very quietly - "SM, this isn't about the towels, is it?"

I stopped and thought. It struck me that whilst I was, obviously, cross about the towel situation, the truth is that I am always cross about towels. But a dropped towel won't usually make me go stratospheric.

#1 is away at the moment. I'm not going to see her for a whole week. Longer than I've ever been without her. I miss her. That's why I lost it.

Had I had a few drinks, I would never have realised this. I would have ignored Mr SM's intervention, which would only have increased my fury. I would have moved on from the towels, and onto my other pet hate - the way everyone leaves their dirty plates and cutlery on top of the dishwasher rather than inside it.

So, quitting alcohol doesn't make the occasional bouts of  irrational rage go away, but it does help you to stop, get a sense of perspective, and realise that it's not about the towels. Or the dishwasher. Or the platter of cold meats.

And that has to be better for our sanity and our relationships.

By the way, if anyone has any ideas about how to get anyone else in my family to pick up a sodding, sodden towel once in a while then please let me know.

Love SM x