This week I made up a holiday and told myself that it was my moral obligation to observe it. And that made-up holiday would be Sobriety Awareness Week. Yeah, that's right, I gave up drinking for one week.
Now, let's not get all hasty and say, Wow, if you have to force yourself to not drink for one week don't you think it's likely that you have a problem? (Love ya, Mom) This is not a alcoholism test, it is more of a holy-shite, I drink way too many calories reality.
We all have our cross to bear, right?
So last night, approximately 24 hours into my drinking embargo, this scene takes place:
7 p.m. in the Dangelico household
Me: Babe, you want a beer?
Dave: Sure, thanks.
So, I crack open a beer, and then I stand there in the middle of my kitchen—a mature, adult, well-adjusted independent woman—and I sniffed that beer. Yes I did. And when I sniffed it and imagined the frothy goodness that waited just below the mouth of the can (Yes, all of this for a CAN of beer) I thought: Well, I could probably have just a sip.
I thought about it.
As my will-power wavered, and the randomly formed and seemingly pointless goal slipped farther out of focus, I almost took a sip. I almost pressed my lips to the mouth of the can and took an itsy bitsy sip that not even David would have noticed.
But I stopped.
"No, no, no," I actually said outloud to myself, placing the now heavily sweating can down onto the kitchen counter. "I'll just have tea," I said. "YUM, tea."
So, after all that, here I am almost 48 hours sober, and feeling great. Strike that, I am feeling sluggish and crappy but let's just blame that on summer allergies and not jump to withdraw-symptom irrationalities.
In an effort to last the week, I am drinking excessive amounts of coffee and tea—I've got the shakes and heart palpitations to prove it.
Next week it will be on to my next goal: a week without caffeine.
Only kidding, of course. I can't afford to lose my job, husband, friends and all human contact right now. :)