…upon which I now find myself:
I don’t like to post personal ‘poor me’ stuff, but in giving up the booze for the foreseeable future, it seemed sensible to say it publically. This way, friends that drop by this blog can hold me to account if they see me with a drink in my hand.
Charles Bukowski said it better than I ever could:
“Drinking is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you’re allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It’s like killing yourself, and then you’re reborn. I guess I’ve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.”
No more killing myself…