Jack told himself, and anyone who might ask, that he didn’t have a problem. And he believed it. He enjoyed the occasional beer or three, but when Donna said she was worried, he told her there was no reason to be. She asked him to stop for a week. “Fine,” he said, “in fact, I’ll stop for two.”
He was four days in when he kicked himself for tacking on that second week.
It wasn’t a “capital-P” Problem, he thought. More of a habit he had just fallen into. And it wasn’t that bad of a habit — it’s not like he was getting DUIs left and right and skipping work. He enjoyed a few beers after work, maybe a few more on the weekends. He was an adult, and deserved it.
The first day hadn’t been a problem at all. The second day, however, had been different. There had been a … gnawing that he hadn’t expected. An urge to go to the “beer fridge” in the basement and try this experiment again some other time. His mind came up with rationalizations as to why he deserved it.
He didn’t want to disappoint Donna, though, so he persevered.
He looked for things to take is mind off it, but it wasn’t easy. Hell, the antique fair that Donna had wanted to go to seemed like a good idea, but damned if there wasn’t a beer tent.
And he realized that he might be dealing with a “capital-P” after all.