So, for a while now, I’ve been thinking about giving up drinking as a sort of challenge/detox for myself. Since moving to New York City, I wouldn’t be surprised if my liver has deteriorated by 50%…yeah, it’s been a couple of months filled with those kinds of weekend nights…okay and maybe a few Mondays and Tuesdays and Thursdays. Woops. What can I say; your girl loves a good espresso martini…and vodka cran and Ciroc Coconut with gingerale and Jameson Red Hot shots. I mean, we’ve got to live a little, right? (Yeah, yeah I can see your horror from here, Gretch, and yes, I know that alcohol is not necessarily necessary to have a good time…which means you can stop internally preparing for that text lecture (LOVE YOU)).
In case you don’t already know or have yet to begin to figure out, I’m quite the analytical character. So, with drinking comes way too many thoughts to get inundated by. And, okay, maybe I’m a little bit of a hypochondriac too, so those two qualities together have led me to right about now. It’s happened before and I don’t exactly remember my drinking game at that point in life, but either way some organ on my left side (at least that’s what I assume it to be) has become inflamed so as to make its presence very well known—you can even feel it if you poke around right under my rib cage (well, sometimes). And since I’m backwards (Situs Inversus with Dextrocardia Totalis, thank you very much), that means it could very well be my liver. Yes, I have obviously gone to the doctor but they say nothing’s wrong and it’s likely just inflammation from working out. But, since I am convinced that it could be the alcohol, I’ve decided that now is as good a time as any to cut out my favorite weekend accessory and stash away my precious Kate Spade “Happy Hour” flask (or at least attempt to—and I say attempt not because I’m incapable due to being an alcoholic but because, let’s be honest, FOMO is so real and the idea of missing out due to not indulging in a shot (or two or six) can sometimes get the better of us).
So here’s the plan (and I’m actually posting this because then perhaps I will feel like I have to hold myself accountable in case I begin to waver): starting Tuesday (because it’s Memorial Day Weekend until then and…I really don’t think I need to explain that one) I will cut out all alcohol until the weekend of July 4th (unless of course I find someone to get all honky tonk in a pair of cowboy boots and a pair of Daisy Dukes with at Farm Borough the weekend of June 26th, then sorry bout it).
Sounds like a plan, right? Sweet, I’m pumped (ish). And hey, maybe I’ll lose six pounds while I’m at it, so there’s that.