A moderation short story

April 4, 2017

Last Wednesday the dogs started barking and running to the window, so I went to the window to see the mail person getting back in her mail truck, and I got a text message that the Glucosamine pills from Amazon that my younger Golden Retriever and I take for joint issues had been delivered. So I ran out to get them, but they were not there. No package anywhere, not even in the mail box. So I got the tracking number off the text message and called UPS. They told me the package had been passed off to the Post Office for delivery, and dictated a second, extremely long tracking number, and gave me the number to call at the United States Postal Service. Which I then called, was placed on hold for 54 minutes while annoying music played in my ear, then a person whose accent was so thick I could not understand her asked me a few thousand questions, then dictated to me yet a third extremely long number which was now my case number. So by now I had nearly three hours tied up in the search for these pills.

In about 20 minutes I was supposed to leave for the St. Louis Face to Face MM meeting, which I had agreed to help lead. But, I was tired, frustrated, angry, and for the briefest moment the thought breezed through my head, “Wouldn’t it be oh so grand to just dive head-first into a bottle of Jack Daniels and blow off the meeting?” Because, if it had been a dozen or so years ago, that’s exactly what I would have done, no question about it. And these thoughts and habits die hard.

Of course, if you know me at all, you already know what I did. I brushed off the thought, smiled at it as if to say “I remember you. You are the thought that got me into so much trouble in years past. I’m so glad I don’t cave in to you anymore. But thanks for reminding me of the life I used to live, the decisions I used to make, and how happy I am now to be living life much differently and way better.”

So I went to the meeting, and I was glad I did. There were a couple of regulars, and a new person who needed and got our help.

In case you’re wondering, two days later I contacted Amazon who called me back right away, refunded my money, reordered the joint medicine, and it was delivered yesterday. And the original order was delivered today – five days late. It had been delivered to the wrong address. It was not the first time!

So for me the takeaway is thoughts of overdrinking are still around, the answer to my question “How do I want to feel tomorrow morning when I get up” is never going to be “I don’t care,” and Amazon customer service is terrific! (And we get a little bit if you designate us as your charity and go to smile.amazon.com instead of just Amazon.com)

Good evening to all, my friends.

Just Plain Phil

One comment on “A moderation short story
  1. Ellie Best says:

    I am a new member today and appreciate this story. Gives me hope that I can also say no when I am in a stressful situation. Thank you:)

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