I am on day 9 which is an accomplishment in and of itself. What prompted my temporary abstinence from the sauce? A myriad of things, but to name a particular instance: last weekend I went to a party. 'Twas a party crawling with twenty-somethings, and at one point (at around 3am) I looked around and realized I was the oldest person in the room. I had
|day nine, feeling fine. (blarf)|
I decided there was no better way to commemorate my week+ of not sippin' on Grandpa's Old Cough Medicine (if you can't name that movie we will never be close) than to construct a list comprised of the pros and cons of not partying. Let's get sharted:
Hangovers become obsolete
There aren't many things worse than waking up and feeling like you've been slugged in the head by Marla Hooch (what a hitter!) and being thirstier than cured ham as you come to the realization you're still wearing your pea coat and 5 inch heels from the night before. Looking in the mirror and seeing a Comet Club stamp etched onto your cheek from where you slept on your hand is about as humiliating as that time you had to remove your headgear before losing your virginity to the co-captain of the Geometry league in high school AND SHIT I'M GETTING OFF TOPIC. Hangovers are as cool as hemorrhoids and lemme tell any of you
You start to realize how much of your social life revolves around alcohol: work events, going on a first date with that dicktard named Johnny "White Lightning" Martinezo who you met on Tinder, catching up a with an old friend over a
No drunk texting.
ALLELUIA. Waking up and seeing texts you sent to your ex-boyfriend you met 9 years ago while waiting in line for the porta potty at Bonnarro (you know, the dingus who still lives in his parents' basement who treated you like a sperm receptacle) in a desperate attempt to get attention is sadder than the Kardashian girls when they realize they didn't score front row seats at the BET awards. I felt like Muhammad Ali after he'd won the Heavyweight Championship title when I woke up this morning and saw that the only person I'd messaged last night was my OBGYN asking if we could reschedule my pap smear AND GOOD GOD SOMETIMES THIS BLOG FEELS LIKE ONE GIANT DRUNK TEXT.
Peer pressure still exists, even in your thirties.
Remember when you learned about D.A.R.E in middle school? Your teacher probably didn't tell you that peer pressure and sober shaming continues WELL INTO YOUR THIRTIES. (BTW, we all know D.A.R.E. really stands for Drugs Are Really Expensive). It's been amusing to see people's reactions when I tell them I'm not drinking:
SUPPORTIVE FRIENDS ARE THE BEST.
FOMO RUNS RAMPANT WHEN YOU'RE SOBER
I love to go
The likelihood of going home with that drunk guy named Darryl with the frosted tips who keeps buying you shots, grabbing your mid-section and calling you "mama" is significantly lower when you're sober.
The Likelihood of going home with anyone is higher than Snoop Dogg. Speaking to all you singles out there, of course.
You become remarkably more
Hyperboles aside, I wasn't planning on writing this but I need to be held
I hope you find something to be happy about today, my friends.