I’ve given up drinking. Again.
Not forever, mind you. While I’m delusional enough to think that someday I’ll become a star because someone will discover me for my singing ability as I’m driving around with the top down belting out some Journey, I’m not so crazy to think that I can give up alcohol for good. To put that into perspective, my own mother describes my voice as sounding much like a pig being slaughtered. So, yeah.
Why? That is the question that I know is coming. Where do I start?!
For the purpose of this post I reluctantly got out my calculator and logged into my checking account. I knew that since the beginning of the year I had spent some money on drinks but I’m not sure I was prepared for the actual total. In the last 10 days, I have spent $671.07 on alcohol. 10 days. While I can’t think of a more fun way to end up in the poor house, I kind of like the roof that I have over my head and my cute car and having the ability to buy cute shoes when I want.
As shocking as that total was, the money really isn’t the issue. The real reason for the break up is that I just don’t wanna. I’m exhausted and getting a little too old for this. I think probably a good amount of that money was spent on drinks I had to choke down because I was too tired or too hungover from the night before but my mind was set on being drunk and sociable so that’s what I did. Wanting to drink and having to get drunk are two completely different things.
The truth is, and don’t go telling everyone this but, I’m just not fun when I’m sober. I’m downright boring and sometimes only drink to be bearable enough for people to hang out with and vice versa. I would like to be the one once and awhile who sits and observes the drunkeness but I don’t like to disappoint when I’m expected to be entertaining – no matter how much it kills my liver or my dream of one day becoming President.
Now what? Now I become a raging bitch. No, wait, that’s already happened. Now I face the peer pressure. I fight off those that say, “It’s just one drink,” when they know me and know good and well that it’s never just one drink. I turn away the bartenders that automatically hand me a beer when I walk in the door of the pool hall when I show up for league. I stay away from people that I always hang out with and that I love because they’re triggers. I don’t expect them to hang out with me sober, don’t blame them for not understanding my motives, and know that this will probably alter our friendship forever. But it’s something I have to do. For even more reasons than what’s written here. For me.
I really need a drink now.