2004-12-02 - 9:31 a.m.

There are moments in my day-to-day life where I can feel that I've aged. I can't physically see the graying strand fall loose from my scalp, nor feel the crease in my forehead beginning to form, yet I can feel the passing of time, no, I can feel the passing of my time all the same.

I made my 31 day goal. Piece of cake. Alright, anyone who knows me, knows that's a lie. There were times when the pangs of alcoholism crept up and tried to pull me down. Whether it was working at the bar and having person after person offer me a shot (Thanks DARE Officer Funk for teaching me how to 'Just Say No') or even just hanging around the house staring at the massive amount of alcohol that had massed on our bar, like it was planning some Tet offensive hell bent on claiming my body as conquered territory, it was tough. The majority of the people I told about my sabatical from alcohol scoffed at the idea, not really offering support, instead choosing to laugh and/or make me feel like some huge alcoholic who couldn't crawl out of the bottle if my life depended on it. So the 31 eventually became as much an F-U attempt as much as it was a chance for me to regain my health.

So what did I gain? For one I lost an entire waist size, dropping around 6 pounds without changing my diet, or exercise routine. Money wise I can only guess. I would guestimate that on an average week I probably spent somewhere close to $60 on booze, so that averages out to about $260 saved over the course of the month. My workflow increased, my demeanor changed to the point where my co-workers were making comments like, "Wow! You're actually smiling! You're not grumpy! You don't look like death warmed over!" As for any progress in the relationship department, well, I guess I proved that alcohol and love are not as related as I once thought they were. Status: no change.

So exactly at midnight, when 31 became 32, I was sitting at Cody's doing some flyers and whatnot when I saw the clock strike 12. I decided I'd earned a celebratory drink. Two Jack and Cokes later, I was shittttttfaced. 2. Not 2 doubles, or 2 strong ones, just 2. I was like a prom date, dress over my head, helpless and retarded.

But it worked. The next morning I felt like ass. I didn't even want to look at booze. And now? Weeks later? I don't feel the need to drink that I used to. Since the end of my sabaticcal, I've been out drinking 2, maybe 3 times in the last 4 weeks. And the desire to drink everytime I'm out is no longer there. And that feels awesome.

Control. That feels good.

I've got tons to say about family and Thanksgiving and all that good stuff, but I'm gonna let it sit just a little longer. I've got work to do and whatnot. I'll be back soon.

Record in the player: Beggars Banquet, Rolling Stones.

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