Have you noticed that I have a list of worries?
My biggest one right now is my inability to control my drinking.
I know some of my more popular posts have been recollections of boozy nights past, but after last weekend, I'm more than a little concerned about it.
Lets summarise the damage of a last weekend's bender in no particular order;
2 - nights of drinking
500 - dollars spent, probably more
1 - Hole in the lounge room wall
3 - ex's attempted to hook back up with on various dancefloors
0 - successful hook up attempts with ex's
1 - Irishman in my bed that wouldn't kiss
5 - smashed glasses in the kitchen sink
1 - arse cheek covered in gravel rash
2 - over worked kidneys
x - number of sambucca shots consumed, where x may equal anything between 1 and infinity.
It was all kind of a blur really. But I do remember both nights getting to the stage where I just went "Fuck it... lets just get trashed".
And I did. With a great deal of success. And that's what really worries me the most. That I had to take it to that next level.
Why wasn't tipsy to medium level drunk enough? I was having a great time both nights, but oblivion was just calling my name.
So two mammoth hangovers, two days in a row, left me pretty much without a good proper sleep in, and a good relaxing day to recover from a fairly hellish week.
And the embarrassment of crashing through the house at 4am with the non-kissing Irish man, breaking all the glasses in the sink and then falling over in the courtyard with my pants around my ankles has led me to the conclusion that enough is enough.
So I've told a few people that I need to cut back, and all are supportive.
"Yes! It'll be great for your health."
"Yes! It'll be great for your budget."
"Yes! It'll be great for your reputation to not look like a drunken sloppy whore every time you go out."
But tonight a couple of those supportive people seem to have forgotten about being supportive.
"So you're coming out tomorrow then?" asks one. When I say no, probably gonna go to the parents for a visit, I get laughed at.
"I'm sure I'll see you on the dance at midnight out of your skull!" Chortle, chortle, snigger.
Fuck you. You have no faith in me at all? Thanks.
And then another tonight sends me a text saying "Come get trashed with me!" with my reply being "I'm cutting back, remember?"
The response? "Oh. Fuck that".
Once again. Thanks.
I know I've said it before, told people that I have to cut back, and will try and adhere to a low booze weekend. And have miserably failed. On more than one occasion.
I need to not get trashed this weekend. I need to display some self control. Just to prove to myself that I can actually do it.
But what if I can't?