Home and Deranged
Why alcohol is better, and cheaper, than couples therapy: Maintain yourrelationship with booze, not fake docs
Do you really want to go through this type of couples therapy torture?
This set-up fueled The Boyfriend and my reconciliation after a year-longseparation.
Drunk eyes and an awkward arm picture? Evidence this night was just us.
Getting occasionally drunk one-on-one is an important component of any healthyrelationship.
Therapy is expensive. I also hate it.
I feel weird speaking so frankly when we’re not both lying down and I detest rock gardens (one of my earliest memories of marriage counseling — not my own). Psychologists aren’t real doctors — cue the comments — and ever since my first grade teacher said I couldn’t be in her class unless I were medicated, I’ve been suspicious of psychiatrists, too.
Miss McKlaren’s opinion over mine? Get real.
Couples therapy is even worse, like paying someone to passive aggressively abuse you. I think it’s akin to self-flagellation.
So I prefer to drink. I’ve always known that a couple of timely cocktails and the right audience do wonders for working out funks, but I believe it’s equally effective for repairing relationships.
Actually, forget repairing. It’s maintenance. As routine as it is to change the oil in your car, couples should make time to get drunk with one another.
And I don’t mean in a social setting — weddings, family get togethers, football games and funerals don’t count. I mean mano-a-mano. You can do your romantic dinner dates, but I’m beginning to think drinks a deux take care of a host of standard relationship hang-ups.
Your significant other isn’t affectionate enough in public? Get drunk together.
Soon hands will be held, hair caressed, neighboring tables offended. And you’ll dance — like nobody’s watching.
He won’t talk about his feelings? Get drunk together.
As The Boyfriend likes to say, “I’ve got my nothing drawer out.” I don’t know exactly what that means, and I’m kind of jealous. I have to get an MRI or schedule a sensory deprivation sesh to achieve that kind of Zen. If you find yourselves reading in the same room in silence for one too many consecutive nights, take a night out. The only drawers out will be the kind that drop.
Need to get something of your chest, or resolve an argument? Get drunk together.
Where marijuana slows time down (I’m told) alcohol speeds it up. Fights that could last weeks are over after a few hours-long drink-fueled pow wow. You’re quicker to say you’re sorry, quicker to forgive, and ready to get the damn thing over with and on with your night.
Don’t think you’re doing it enough? Get drunk together.
It doesn’t matter what activity you elect as the excuse; it’s the same concept that slayed you when you were single, put to far more productive use on a significant other. Where pounds were dropped and faces altered in ways no plastic surgeon could, your goggles now serve to forgive past offenses, make quirks into qualities and remember why you liked each other in the first place.
Doing it too much? Get really drunk together.
Boom, baby. Relationship rescued. Sic me on world peace.
