When I arrived at work yesterday morning, I was already very busy, and the fact that I had published an explanation about my evening the day before didn't help me to stay quiet. Phones are strictly forbidden in the workplace, so I leave mine in my locker like everyone else, and it's a good thing, in this locker I also store plastic bags filled with alcohol.
I usually take advantage of my breaks to look at my phone and put in my stainless steel mug a complete pocket of 20cl of alcohol, then I go to the coffee machine to check my messages and fill the mug with coffee, then I go out to smoke two cigarettes and I do this three times a day.
But yesterday, because of my posting, I got several private messages, so a lot of messages encouraging me to drink. I was already dying to get drunk, so I couldn't resist; on my way back from my first break, I stopped at my locker again to drink a whole pocket and put my phone away.
When I got back to my desk, I was very tipsy and had a crazy urge to drink and tell you about it. I was hoping that work would allow me to dissipate the obsession that was being born in me. Unfortunately, due to a technical problem, we had many network outages that prevented us from working.
At first, I managed to stay calm, but the urge to check my messages was eating away at me. And since I couldn't work, I went to my locker, and while answering my callers, I greedily drank my improved coffee, and when the mug was almost half empty, I put the contents of a whole pocket back in to fill it to the brim.
I went back to my office with the absolute desire to be drunk; I could feel the alcohol working in me and it was turning me on. Around 11:00 I went back to my locker, initially to read my messages and put more alcohol back in my mug, but I couldn't resist drinking a whole bag as fast as I could. With the plastic mouthpiece stuck between my lips, I squeezed the plastic to make the alcohol flow faster, it burned, but it went by so fast that I felt like a tornado of happiness ravaging my taste buds to reach my stomach in a steady stream.
When the pouch was finished, I had to repress a violent urge to vomit, but I knew how to control myself. While I was filling the mug again, I felt that I was wavering, that the alcohol was invading me, it is a wonderful sensation to feel suddenly under the effect of the drink, to go from almost sobriety to a real drunkenness in a few seconds gives me a real ecstasy. I would have been at home, drinking my mug in one go, just for the pleasure of feeling devastated.
But since I was at work, I had to tone it down. I went back to my desk with my mug and pretended to work. I pretended so well that our department head cited me as an example to my colleagues; they were arguing because they couldn't work without an internet connection and I was obviously able to be productive. I didn't say anything for fear of stammering when I spoke; I knew I was already well underway. I also knew it would have been a good idea while I was at my locker to switch from my stilettos to flats but it was too late for that.
At 12:30, I went to my car to go to the restaurant, as I do every day; I always choose places that let me drink what I want and charge it to me as a meal, so I can pay with the company card. When I arrived at the restaurant, I was staggering a bit, the waiter who knows me well joked with me saying that normally, I'm supposed to leave the restaurant in that state, not go in. So I asked him to serve me something that would break my brain, he was intrigued; I assured him that today there was no limit, that he only had to serve me what he had the most fearful.
He mixed several alcohols in a big glass and served it to me, it was strong and very effective, I was fulfilled. For the second mixture, same glass but different alcohols, it was just as destructive. After the third glass of another mixture, my elbow slipped off the counter and I almost fell on the floor. The waiter, pleased, inquired if I had what I wanted, but in a thunderous, fickle voice, I ordered him to serve me the next drink.
After six drinks, I was beautifully fine, feeling the same as when I leave a bar in the middle of the night on a weeknight. As I got off my stool to stand on my feet, my stilettos made me dance on the carpet in search of a stable position. The whole world was a blur, spinning around me as I twirled like a butterfly in the flame of a candle. When it was time to pay, I took out the company card and the waiter had to guide my hand to the machine for contactless payment.
I left the restaurant totally drunk, and on the way to work I stroked my clit, enjoying every second of driving in the middle of the day as soaked as I usually do at night. Once the car stopped in front of the building that was the source of my suffering, I did a few nice lines of coke; sure, I liked being drunk, but I also needed to keep my job.
I hurried to my locker while the powder was still working, slipped on a pair of low-heeled shoes, filled my mug, hid a pocket of alcohol in each cup of my bra, and put on a pair of glasses with colored lenses to hide my eyes. When I got to my office, I walked fast, in a straight line, without breathing, no one paid any attention to me. I was almost 20 minutes late but nobody noticed.
The afternoon was hard to get through; on the one hand I was looking forward to the reopening of my favorite bar and I was looking forward to going there, on the other hand I was dying to go and read my messages and finally I was finding it harder and harder to give the change. I could feel the plastic bags against my breasts but I didn't dare to take them out for fear of being seen.
Shortly before 4pm, I took my last break, fortunately, due to technical problems, many colleagues had gone home. I was able to go out discreetly and it was a good thing because walking was becoming difficult. At my locker, I checked my messages, answered as best I could, refilled my mug and returned to my seat; I did not go out to smoke, I was now unable to do so.
I didn't even try to pretend to work for the rest of the afternoon; my only task was to manage to press the space key when Windows paused and my screens went black. Finding myself more and more alone in this large open space, I finally gave in and pulled out one of the pockets of my warm underwear and filled my mug. The end of the day was approaching and I felt that even if I ended up totally wiped out, no one would be there to see it.
At 5:30 pm, there were no longer two of us in the office, it was time for me to leave and my colleague was at the back of the room hidden behind her screens and it seemed unlikely that she would see me. I left the premises, holding on to the wall so as not to fall, and went to my car. I was madly enjoying my state and I couldn't help but call my son to let him know; he was waiting for me at the bookstore with his sisters, he was very excited, he was hoping we would all go to the bar like yesterday, but it wasn't possible because I was planning to be home very late and his sisters needed to sleep and he had to stay close to them to watch them.
Of course, when I arrived in front of the bookstore to load them on board, my son was pouting. I had to remind him of our pact, so long as now he has to let me live, but as soon as he turns 16, he will be allowed to accompany me as late as he wants. He will be allowed to do as much as he wants to me and will be able to take any drug he wants, wherever we are. He smiled and told me he had lots of ideas but would tell me about them later so I wouldn't have to go through with them without him.
I took out the second bag of alcohol from my bra, told my son that hot was even more effective, he replied with a knowing look that he knew and I drank it the rest of the way. I dropped off the little group of people in front of the house and left. I was beaming, excited to drink the night away at my favorite bar. But when I arrived, it was still closed, the renovations were behind schedule.
Out of spite, I went to drink somewhere else, but my heart wasn't in it, I finally got home at 3am, and even though I spilled a few things on my way back into the house, making a racket that woke everyone up, I was far too lucid for my taste. I asked my son to pour me a drink and to change the alcohol after each drink, which he did. Gradually I became overwhelmed with alcohol, my son shaking me from time to time to keep me awake so I would keep drinking. I finally passed out for an hour or two and now it was time to go back to work.
I'm dead tired, but I'm still looking forward to tonight's St. Patrick's Day warm-up party. I'm going to party with people who have come to get drunk and I'm going to rule this drinking world. I'm going to end up so drunk in the morning that I won't be able to go to work or even think about it, I'll be a wreck dragging myself from glass to glass and I'm looking forward to it.
