I thought I would take today’s Friday Lame Post to give an update on my 30 Days Without Wine. Or you may call it 30 Days of Whine, although I must confess to doing more than my fair share of kvetching even with the wine. Be that as it may, this is Day 27. Yes, I’ve been counting. How else would I know when I got to 30?
Earlier today the little devil on my shoulder (you know, like in the cartoons, when the character has a little version of himself in horns on one shoulder and one with a halo on the other?) kept saying, “27 is practically 30. Aren’t you being a little anal retentive about this?” She went on to say, “Anyways, isn’t this no alcohol thing a bit self-aggrandizing? Just another way of calling attention to yourself? Shouldn’t you just get over yourself and have a beer?” I didn’t even know she knew the word “self-aggrandizing.”
The Devil Me would probably also call me out on thinking something magical might happen if I go all 30 days. How illogical and immature, she would say. Of course I stopped listening to that bitch when I remembered she is also the one who thinks I’m such a terrible writer.
The Angel on my other shoulder did not contribute a whole lot to the discussion. She merely pointed out that while PROBABLY nothing magical would happen on Day 30, how would I know if I didn’t wait that long? Anyways, there isn’t a bottle of dry red in the house, and that is what I chiefly feel like drinking. For Day 31 I have promised myself a bottle of 19 Crimes, one of my favorites. I think that’s worth waiting three more days for.
Right now I am reinforcing my dry behavior by watching World’s Dumbest Partiers (why is my computer underlining “partiers”? That must be a word! What else would you call these people?). I don’t imagine the one little glass of 19 Crimes I intend to have on Tuesday will cause me to act like one of those guys. However, if it does, I promise to write a blog post about it.