30 Days of No Alcohol: 1st Update, Very Exciting (Not Serious)

This is the first update after the initial post about going 30 days of no alcohol, drinking nothing but water.

Today marks a week of drinking only water, and below are my impressions.

I’ve been shaking non-stop, my eyes are twitching, I can’t sleep, and I haven’t had a bowel movement in six days unless you count the “oopsie” I had during my afternoon nap today.

Actually, I feel fine and the sheets are clean. I always wear a diaper.

It’s a toss up whether alcohol or milk beckons me more strongly. I miss them both dearly and life just isn’t quite as rich without them. Black coffee, in my opinion, is terrible and disgusting without milk. It tastes like acid rain mixed with dirt and dog hair, although my lightly-milked coffee also tastes a bit like dog hair, to be fair. Fortunately, my French press suffered a lethal tumble today so I’m no longer tempted to torture myself with its dark conjurings.

I miss my post-gym protein shakes. With water they lack taste, texture, and gravitas.

I miss downing a big glass of milk after eating something I drench in too much Tabasco, which happens every single time I use Tabasco, which is with most meals. Perhaps a fall is in order for my little Tabasco bottle, my silent tormentor who lurks in the shadow of the refrigerator door shelf waiting for me to assault myself with it.

Did you hear that you red little son of a bitch!?

I miss moaning in pleasure as two little white streams flow down from the corners of my mouth onto my shirt and the floor and whichever dog is nearer during and after the Tabasco overdose milk chugging rehabilitation.

I miss the sugary flavors and the colors of juice and Gatorade and how the little beads of sweat individually call out to me psychically promising immediate and complete satiety. I miss how they always deliver on that promise.

Hopefully this will all go away. The pain is immense (not really).

No notable cognitive improvements yet.

Dreams have been more vivid and numerous, which is nice unless I’m euthanizing my poor dog by repeatedly pounding his head into the pavement but failing at my gut-wrenching but noble goal (true dream story – terrible).

When I was at pool league last Sunday where I always drink, I was irritable and things that would not normally bother me bothered me quite a bit. Maybe beer goggles filter out irritable things.

I have lost some of the fat I piled on during this trip of indulgent food and drink coupled with zero exercise, although my morning runs and intense lifting sessions over the last week have also obviously added to this increased level of sexiness, vitality, and resulting salaciousness.

There is was extra cash in my titanium money clip than there would have been had I been drinking as usual. I wisely decided to spend this money on a hummingbird feeder and a bird seed feeder, neither of which, to my knowledge, has attracted a single paying customer. No birds even.

We’ll see what the next week and the next week and the next week bring. Let’s hope my writing ability improves so I can give you something better than this stream of digital refuse.

Cheers!

(For the second update, click here.)