It starts today.

I'm scared. I just swore myself off alcohol for a year, and now I'm not sure about it. Did I really think this through? Nope, didn't. Mainly because I am also hung over, and as such my general ability to use my brain at all is impaired. Not a good time to make big, life-changing decisions. Except for this one. In the thick of my dehydration, in the throes of my brain-damage, now is exactly the right time to say fuck you alcohol. Fuck you for taking my perfectly good mind and making it moronic. Fuck you for fucking with my skin. Fuck you for making me do things I am ashamed of. And fuck you for keeping me from being exceptional. It's not alcohol's fault really. I get that. Or more to the point, I'm about to find out. Today, my year off the piss begins. Here is where I will tell you how it goes. And presumably I will find out whether it is in fact the booze that's hindering my ability to get to where I want to go, or my own innate short-comings. Woo! I can hardly wait. At least if I find it's my short-comings, I can drown my sorrows by hitting the bottle in a major way. 365 days of sobriety, you arrive not a moment too soon...