Meeting at home

I'm here at home. I am all moved into my dad's place, except, of course, I forgot my shoes in the storage facility.

So far in my less than 48 hours home I've been to three meetings. Adam took me out a few hours after I arrived and I met a few folks whose numbers I got. A nice lady told me about a womens meeting the next morning, and I met a large group of sober women who gave me their numbers. The third meeting I heard about some other good groups to seek out, and I have a book now of all the meetings in the area.

But the funny thing is, I haven't wanted a drink this whole time. I haven't even really thought about it except when others bring it up. In fact, I have no interest in a drink. That would just make me depressed and sorry for myself, which I sure don't need.

I sure do want a cigarette, though. I've had one all day. My dad is retired, so there's no way for me to smoke without making up a weird excuse to leave the house. I think quitting will become inevitable.

So how do I feel? Well, I think.... I think I'm fine, actually. It's weird. I haven't freaked out, or cried, or had any big self-pity feelings. I've actually been just fine. It's weird. I feel like I should be really upset or freaking out. The only thing I don't like is I don't have my car, which makes me feel like I'm stuck, but I can use my dad's car.

Perhaps it will just take a little more time to hit me....