No Sleeves

So I saw someone is a-hoppin’ on the “alkeehall is bad, but not THAT bad” train. that Now, having subjected myself to a month of self-imposed draught last year, my tiny, tiny sense of moral superiority is forcing me to comment. (It’s tiny, but it has a very loud, annoying voice).

There’s a litany of reasons to stay off the sauce (money, weight, chemical dependence, health); I think I threw all of them in there when I was explaining why I was sipping a Diet Coke when everyone else was downing shots of Jager. The dirty secret of the sober month, which sounds so great in theory, is this:

It SUCKS.

It sucks because you feel slightly left out when you’re at a bar with friends.
It sucks because you catch strange looks from people you’re just meeting, like you’re a leper or something.
It sucks because people GIVE you those looks and you feel compelled to justify your abstention for no real reason.
It sucks because going out with your buddies becomes extremely depressing.
It sucks because getting laid, sadly, gets more difficult.
It sucks because beer is good.
It sucks because whatever weight you lose will be back by the next month, no sweat.
And finally, it sucks because you realize the extent of your dependence on alcohol…and that while you may not be an alcoholic, it still ends up leading you around by the nose far too often.

Then, like a ray of sunlight through the clouds, the month’s over, and it’s time to grab a pint and see how long it’ll take to forget the torture you just inflicted upon yourself. Yay for booze!