Stuart and I are now on the wagon. As in the not drinking wagon. So here I am.
Not drinking.
Not having one.
No sir-ree Bob.
(What is it about quitting drinking that makes you want to drink?)
Is good though because I’ve gained two stone since I’ve moved here and I’m sure it is entirely due to beer. And vin rouge. And me being a lazy cow.
I’ve gone a month here and there not drinking, but overall I have been rather bad since I’ve moved here. Drink at least two times a week (sometimes more like four) sometimes it would be just one or two pints. (What am I saying. It was never just one) and sometimes it would be five. Times that by four times a week and that is a lot of guinness.
I don’t know if I’ve known Stuart to go an entire week off the sauce, but he tells me that I am wrong and that he has. I am choosing to believe him.
Told Al what we were doing. “It sucks because I’m going to NYC next week.”
“He won’t know.”
“That’s wrong.”
“True. And if you don’t drink when you are away from each other and he does, then you have the moral high ground.”
“Exactly.”
So, keep a good thought for Stu and I on day one on the Train to Soberville.
This is not an April Fool’s Day joke.
I wish it was, cause I really could use a drink.
April 3rd, 2008 at 1:58 am
Quitting drinking… that’s a tough one indeed. Good luck!