I have the same relationship with binge drinking that say, a 23 year old would have. Problem is, I was 23 seven years ago. A lot of my friends are like this too, I guess. When we go out, we drink. Except that sometimes I don’t have the little angel on my shoulder telling me that I’ve had to much or had enough and it’s time to go home. So I either stay up and end up doing something stupid, or if I manage to not embarrass myself, I still feel bad the next day. Hangovers are a bitch when you’re thirty, let me tell you.
So, after quite a day of bar hopping last weekend, Jason and I decided that we wouldn’t drink until after the Peachtree which is on July 4th. I was gchatting with a friend yesterday and I mentioned that I hadn’t had a drink in six days. His response, “What, are you pregnant?” See why it’s hard?
It’s not physically hard; my body isn’t craving a drink or anything. But it’s just sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself if I’m not going to a bar with my friends. I know that I could go and have a diet coke or something but I know well enough that that’s not going to happen. And so, in an effort to not make alcohol such a big part of my life, I end up turning down invitations from friends and that’s not what I want either.