Alcohol withdrawl and the (lack of) creative process

I woke up in my bed, after seven hours of sleep without a headache, somewhat refreshed, and ready to take on the world and begin to work on the outline for my book treatment.

I forgot what it was like being a productive member of society, sans drinking every single night for the last two weeks.

I haven't written anything of substance lately, done anything productive, well, except curse the last shot that I took the previous evening. Go to work, meet up with friends after work for drinks, get drunk, do something stupid, go to bed at some bizarre hour, wake up, and begin the process all over again. Well, some nights I didn't do anything that dumb.

But throughout this season of excess, I've come to a conclusion about myself. I really like me sober. I'm funny, smart, don't have that drugged out look in my eye, and I enjoy not having to scroll through my cell phone and see who I've drunk dialed and proclaimed my love to. I also write much better posts than the three lines of "I am drunk. Fuck. Wow." than I have been doing as of late.

That being said, I want to get more in touch with this sober girl who has been in hiding for the last few weeks. And what better way than having her play for thirty days?

So yes, readers, with the exception of when Lu comes to town (because, uhm, how can I be sober when my wife is in town ) I am not drinking for the next thirty days. And I know my little four day allowance shouldn’t be made, but, there isn’t any money on this thing. So, like, whatever.

Sober and Single NYC. Fuck, it doesnt sound as much fun. It sounds more like a Lifetime movie of the week. Oh well.