“The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.”

– Plutarch

Whew. We’ve been busy. And I’ve been tired. No, not tired — exhausted. It’s strange — being tired from actually doing stuff is a lot more affecting than just the tired from staying out drinking all the time. Actually using one’s body really wears you out. Whodathunkit? But, while I need more sleep, I’m still happy.

Tuesday will mark seven weeks sober. That makes me happy.

I spend my days at work — from around 7:45 till . . . whenever we get off, which has ranged between 6:30 and midnight thus far this session. Monday marks the halfway point — 70 days — for the 81st Legislative Session. We haven’t passed one bill through the House. So either things will begin to pick up, and my hours will become even more unpredictable, protracted and wearying, or nothing will get done at all. (There is a saying around the Capitol, especially among Democrats, that the less that gets done during a session is more than likely to the benefit of Texans. Proof.) Ultimately, things will get done. It’s just a matter of how long they’re (the governor, representatives and senators) are willing to drag it all out.

Suffice it to say, I haven’t been getting much sleep except on Saturdays. I can’t even help it. I sleep late without even knowing it. None of that waking up, looking at the clock and turning over to re-embrace Misty and sleep. I just don’t wake up until 11 hits. And then I need a nap. Which gets in the way of setting up the new house.

I don’t have time during the week to do much setting up, and we’ve set a drop-dead date for ourselves: April 4, the day of our housewarming. So we’ve got to get a lot done in the next two weeks, or, more important, one weekend.

Even with this pressure though (and it’s a pressure I put on myself because I really want to have people over to see the place and I really want to finish getting the house completely set up), I’m happy.

I’m happy with Misty — working around the house with her, sitting at a coffeeshop before A.A. meetings with her, shopping with her, sitting on the couch during one of our infrequent periods of relaxation and TV-watching.

I’m happy with our house. Sure, there are things that we need to finish: We still need a fence put up, still need to hang our artwork, still need to finish setting up upstairs, still need another bookcase, et cetera. But, nonetheless, I’m happy.

And, if you’ve known me for any period of time, you’ll know that’s not exactly my S.O.P.

I’m certain there are many reasons for my happiness — being with someone I love and who loves me back, a glorious house that isn’t reminiscent of a cave in the least, a huge back deck that backs onto what may as well be our own private park, the Spring weather — but one of the biggest is probably being sober and finally letting my brain do its thing unencumbered by massive quantities of poison. (Trust me: I drank enough that alcohol wasn’t just an intoxicant, it was a poison.)

So, yeah, I’m happy.

I hope you all are.

– William