|also long live every New Year's Eve since then|
If you think this post is some thinly veiled attempt at writing about how much of an asshole I was this past New Year's Eve and every other social event I've ever attended that includes too much alcohol and not enough self control, you are correct. You also hopefully did not come across this blog by googling prospective employees for your company. If so, please stop reading now, unless you are my current employer, in which case feel free to read on and fire me (jokes!!! those student loans are not going to pay themselves off over a course of ten years).
Whenever I get really sad or angry, I have a tendency to forget that drinking isn't actually a cure for feelings. I don't really enjoy talking about myself or anything other than cats because hearing the sound of my own voice makes me want to start planning my own funeral. So rather than discuss my very real feelings of uselessness and mediocrity, I turn instead to tequila shots and the tears simply follow suit, typically unprompted. Most of the time this is a subconscious decision to turn to alcohol in times of much needed emotional purging. Unfortunately, the truth surfaces only after I've had four shots too many, and at that point there is no turning back. Because if I could turn back time, if I could find a way, I'd take back those words that hurt you and you'd stay.
|everything I've ever needed to learn about life I've learned while watching The Simpsons|
While being the drunkest person in the room is super fun for said drunk person, it is an absolute nightmare for everyone else involved. Unless you're stuck with some incredibly douchey friends, at least one person will take it upon herself to take care of you, and drunk people are the worst. They cry all night, pee all over themselves, vomit all over everyone else and are entirely incomprehensible. The only difference between a drunk person and a colicky baby with diaper rash is that the baby has the excuse of only being alive for like a month. What's my excuse for 23 years of bad decisions?
|oh that's right|
Make no mistake I am not proud of any of these things because I'm not 15 years old. Drinking to excess stops being cool the second you can do it legally, especially if you're not only the drunkest person in the room but also the oldest. It's okay to drink; it's okay to get drunk. but it stops being fun and starts being embarrassing when you're throwing up last year's turkey burger all over your co-workers bedsheets.
So here's to my New Year's Resolutions of 2012: stop drinking away the pain and blog about it instead. Get ready for some painful prose.