Wrecked

This is taken from a novel I published in December 2022.

Saturday 01.08.2015

Ahhh Saturday. Perfect day to start a Diary. (Is diary too feminine?) My name is Harrison King, and I am 23 years of age. My parents had neglected to give me a middle name. Obviously, they did not love me enough. I have a BA in English Literature, and I currently work as a Commercial Client Coordinator for a company called Eclipse. I would say more about what this company do, but I am not too sure myself. It is in no way related to my English degree. But then, what can you do with an English degree?

 I don’t have many hobbies, or many friends to not enjoy these with. Other than my old university pal Alice, who I am sure I will mention again.

I decided to commence this diary (journal?) as a result of my ex-lover, Michelle. Me and Michelle had been dating for four years. She was superior to me. Not intellectually, for sure, but she was much more attractive. Even my Auntie said I was punching. She was also superior to me socially, and in life. She had a large circle of friends which meant we could never have a quiet weekend. She had ambitions too and she was executing them with similar ferocity, not unlike a tiger, pouncing on its prey. Her catty girlfriends always told her she was too good for me and, it seems they finally managed to convince her this was true. She sat me down and said I lacked ambition and that I had a drinking problem. A drinking problem! I told her that, quite frankly, this was bollocks. The only reasons it seems I drink too much is that she was always dragging me to these abhorrent gatherings with her pretentious hippie friends who pretend to care about the environment. Besides, it is not possible to have a drinking problem in your early twenties and she try and not see everything as a “problem”. She was always looking for something to be a problem. I think she liked to have something to solve. Made her feel in control. Me, on the other hand, would take a more laid-back approach. Unconfrontational, cruising through life in the middle lane.

Michelle was ranting and raving about how I always got way too out of control while she would just have one or two glasses of champagne. This was a total lie; she would drink way more than two. At least I was supporting her by putting up with these nonsense events. She seemed to hate me being there but if I said I did not want to go with her she would tell me I was not committed enough and then be sour for days.

I wouldn’t say I was too devastated about our relationship ending. I think it had been creeping up for a while. It is slightly demoralising being the dumpee. I wish I had rushed in first. The worst thing is her trying to use my imaginary alcoholism as justification for why I’m supposedly a “shit boyfriend”.

So, I’m going to prove that I’m not an alcoholic by tracking my alcohol consumption. I’m not actually going to show Michelle the Diary at any point, but it will feel good mentally. Like, a secret competition in which she doesn’t know she’s competing in but she’s getting absolutely annihilated. I hope this diary will give me an incentive to do something more exciting with my life too. I’ll admit, while I did hate Michelle’s gatherings, I do miss having something to do every now and again. It had been over a month since we finished and I had not left the house other than to go to work, the supermarket, and my Aunties house.

I haven’t had a drink today so I’m doing very well thus far. I will be honest; I did get drunk yesterday because it was a work night out and no one likes to be the sober guy on a night out. The sober guy yesterday was Alan from accounts and we all fucking hate Alan. But diary didn’t start yesterday, it starts now.

Sunday 02.08.2015

It’s exceptionally warm outside today. It is precisely the kind of weather that makes you want to drink some ice-cold ciders. Which is what I did. I lay outside, sprawled on the grass reading “Papillon”, and drank fruit cider in a plastic cup with ice. I’m in a public area so the cup was essential. I concealed the ciders under in a carrier bag which was hidden under my jacket. I did not get heavily drunk. I feel like I need to add a disclaimer here, just in case I was to die, and someone stumbled across this diary and assumed I had failed because I had already had a drink after embarking on this endeavour. I don’t think I clarified my objectives clearly enough in yesterday’s entry. My aim is not to never drink anything. Honestly, I find the notion absurd. People who never drink anything are liars or in prison. I just want to prove that I don’t need to drink. I am not an alcoholic. I don’t drink insane amounts and my life is pretty much stable and not at all affected negatively by over consumption of drink.

I did lose concentration and struggled to focus on the book after a few drinks. The words stop penetrating my brain and I was just turning pages every so often and not knowing what the last sentence was. Oh well, I already saw the movie.  

Monday 03.08.2015

From here on in, I will be referring this to a journal, not a diary. Sounds more creditable for a young man and makes me seem less like a teenage girl.

Today was a slow day at the office. I flicked through the news on my computer to pass time. Obama had announced a “Clean Power Plan” to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. I bet Michelle would be attending an event this week where something like this would be a hot topic amongst her insufferable friends. A lot of them study something like Ancient History or some kind of arty course or social studies. I’m not saying my course was the wisest choice, but at least it wasn’t absolutely boring as well as completely useless.

I got fed up with flicking through random news stories and tried to see if I could find some work to do. I found some. Quickly got bored of that. Pretended I needed the loo so I could waste some time. Hate my job.

I did have a drink today. Only three beers. And they were small cans I picked up from Aldi. I always feel drained on a Monday evening, so I need something to see me through. I can’t believe I have four more days of work before I can enjoy two full days of freedom.

Tuesday 04.08.20215

I’m devastated. Miss Piggy and Kermit have ended their relationship. I thought they would have been so in love. Although, I do Imagine Miss Piggy was incredibly difficult for the sweet old frog. I see a picture of the once happy couple on the screen and then begin to feel like I’m staring into a mirror. I’m Kermit, Michelle is Miss Piggy.

The news hit me hard, so I had a few shots of Southern Comfort before bed. Wish I had opted for Jack Daniels instead.

Wednesday 05.08.2015

Wednesday. Midway through the week. The weekend still feels so far away. It’s also this point of the week where I start to feel morose about having no upcoming plans for the weekend. Even Alan from accounts has been blabbing on about going on a trip to the coast with his dull family. I miss my student days when there would always be something to do on a weekend.

No alcohol today! I was in a low enough mood to but, I refrained. Thus far, I appreciate I haven’t taken this drinking less seriously enough. So, to show you my commitment, here is an alcohol-free day. This is my first alcohol free day since I started this journal. I’m pretty sure I have remained below the recommended weekly limit though. Well, I might have gone over a little bit with the Southern Comfort yesterday. It appears I drank more than I had realised. The recommended limit is no way near realistic though. Most people could drink 14 units in a day and not feel too rough about it.

Thursday 06.08.2015

Nothing particularly interesting happened today I’m afraid. I went to HMV on my lunchbreak. I purchased a poster. It was A Clockwork Orange. The overly enthusiastic cashier looked at it and practically screamed at me “Good choice! What’s your favourite bit? I hate these kinds of social encounters with strangers. Forced friendliness with someone you would likely never interact with again. Not by choice anyway. Of course, when put on the spot, I could not remember a single bloody bit of either the film or the book. I had to write a two-thousand-word essay on this stupid thing. Lamely, I just said “I liked all of it”. I regret buying the poster now. As I write this, it remains in its packaging.

I finished the Southern Comfort. Awkward social encounters are improved by alcohol. I can see the funny side of it once I get a few drinks down me.

Friday 07.08.2015

After I came home from work, I finally put up the poster. Then I decided to watch the movie. It had been ages since I had last watched it and I wanted to be prepared the next time someone interrogated me over it. I had a bottle of wine while I watched it. Red of course. I only drink white when offered by someone else. Red is the real chef’s kiss. Pretty sure I have heard say that it has benefits for the heart. Chin-chin then, I suppose!

Saturday 08.08.20215

I’ve been telling myself since I started working, that on a weekend I would get up early and enjoy my weekend. Get out of bed, exercise, go for a walk, read something good or try and put think of a good business idea I could make into a business plan. This is unlikely something I would ever be very good at though. I possess very little business acumen. I could learn a language maybe or pick up a new sport. Could even attempt to learn an instrument although I feel like I’m not musically gifted and this might end up feeling like work away from work.

 Anyway, today, I woke up at 11:25am. Not quite hungover but groggy and still tired. My bloody morning was nearly over. I lay in bed for another 20 minutes. I didn’t even pick up my phone to scroll through Facebook or some other mindless site. I just lay there and let my thoughts run wild. I say run wild; I could have been thinking anything. As I write this, I don’t recall a single thought. Not spending my weekends wisely yet, it appears.

I had five beers in the early afternoon. Then I stopped for an hour. Went to the shop for another four pack and had them too. Maybe more than I should have considering I drank yesterday. I watched The Simpsons for most of my afternoon while I sipped on the beers. I’m a huge fan of the show. Even the new episodes which is not the cool thing to admit. Always cheers me up. Always has. Occasionally I dragged myself of the sofa to go up to go the toilet or grab another beer. I only ate bits of fruit throughout the day. Didn’t have anything in to make a substantial meal.

I haven’t yet disposed of my empty alcohol bottles, and they stand, in a huddle on the table. Reminding me of my ineptitude. I don’t think I’m an alcoholic but, no doubt I can be a lazy swine. I will clear them later though. Maybe tomorrow I can do a Sunday full house clean and then I can pretend to myself that I have been productive all weekend.

Sunday 09.08.2015

I put all the empty bottles into a Lidl carrier bag. I’m too embarrassed to take them out to the recycling bin in case my neighbours see them and think I have a problem. I could just put them all into a bin bag and throw them in the general waste bin. Not very environmentally friendly. I could play really loud music one night and take them out the next morning. They might think I have thrown a party. That could make me look cool.

I didn’t have a drink today. Apart from pure, beautiful H20.  I drank a lot of water. My mouth was painfully dry. My teeth got that awful fuzzy feeling this morning and I felt discomfort when I bit into solid food. I should not have drunk all those beers.

Monday 10.08.2015

I purchased Bridget Jones’s Diary and The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole. I need inspiration. These seem to be the best fictional diaries around. At least, they are the most renowned. I don’t feel I’m equipped enough to write a good diary. I am not interesting enough. Other than my drinking habits, what else should I write about? I also considered buying Samuel Pepys diary but decided against. We had to read extracts of that in school and it never made me want to try and read more of it. I’m more adept at to writing short stories. To sound more pretentious, I sometimes use my dreams as the foundations for these. I had one when I was younger about a large swan that carried me across a river to a mysterious village. I journeyed across once on my own, then the second time I brought my mother. We played cards with the residents. On the third visit, there was an altercation with a disagreeable resident and my mother, so we left. We went to the riverbank to wait for the swan a fourth time but then some unseeable force started dragging me towards the water. My mother stayed behind a fence and either could not or would not come to my rescue. I wrote it for a short story competition, and it got published in a magazine. Probably my only decent accomplishment to date. I started to make a list of each of my dreams that I could turn into decent short stories so I could compile them together into one big book of short stories. Like a collection of Aesop or Hans Christian Andersen.

Not finished it yet.

I started on Bridget on my lunch break. Good read. I don’t think I can relate though, although I want to go for a drink with this Bridget lady.

I had a couple of glasses of merlot later while I carried on reading. It felt appropriate for the book. Sometimes, when I read, I like to imagine the novel is running parallel with my life. It makes it fun.

Tuesday 11.08.2015

I finished Bridget. It was a short read. Fun read, but quick. I wonder if the author shared similar characteristics to Bridget. She must have been able to relate to her in some ways. In which case, she must drink and smoke too much too. In saying that, I’m not sure Bridget really did drink too much. She just seemed to feel a bit guilty for doing it.

No alcohol today! I drank too much wine in the end last night and I woke up with a headache. Not ideal to wake up feeling groggy on a Tuesday evening. I still made it to work on time and functioned at a usual standard. Which for me, is not much. Instead of wine, I had sparkling water with a slice of lemon, (fancy). I had this in a wine glass. (Extra fancy). Although I did notice that I had not cleaned the glass efficiently and there was dark red stain at the bottom from the previous night’s wine. (Less fancy).

Wednesday 12.08.2015

Sleep. Wake up. Go to work. Repeat. How is it only Wednesday?

I remember being really excited when I first got offered this job. It was my first proper job since leaving university. This enthusiasm quickly waned after I realised the job was shit and that life would never be as fun and easy as student life was.

I had a couple of beers when I got home. Just a couple.

Thursday 13.08.2015

Is it weird for a man to keep a journal? I’m not one that’s that bothered about masculinity. Not into football or anything but I will go to the pub to watch the football if invited. Should I tell people I’m writing a journal? If I told people, they might want to read it then, which is definitely not happening.

I snooped at Michelle’s social media. She posted something with another boy with a heart emoticon. Right, let’s get serious. No Alcohol for a week. Need to prove Michelle wrong. I did not touch a drop today. Inexplicably, today was also a drag.