The actual drink as turned into a strange creature. I'm not interested in drinking it, but sometimes I'm compelled by it. I found myself staring at Husband's whisky with a slight rush of grabbing and dumping it down my throat. What if...? What would it feel like? It wasn't an edgy, "I'm about to relapse" situation. It was surreal, a feeling like the urge to jump off the edge of a cliff. Drinking has become a foreign surreal thing. I won't grab that drink just like I won't jump off that edge.