Doomsday/Boomsday

As the world slowly starts to putter out and come to an end here in Trumpsville, I am trying to cast a blind eye to the external world and turn in on myself over here. And by that, I mean I am bringing back Cocktail-free February™ next month. I had attempted to relive C-fF last year, but when that first Friday night came 'round, a roaring, angry feeling erupted demanding to know why I couldn't enjoy for myself a sip or three.

Guess that's when you know you got it bad.

But I'm much more motivated this time, I'd say. Part of me had hoped this would be a nice thing to forego as a sort of quasi-Lent in respect of my newfound and beguiling Christianity. But that wouldn't be the honest reason why I was giving up the sauce for the month. No, the truth is that I'm not getting the same, lovely alcohol high I used to get, and it's probably because I built up my tolerance tenfold over the Winter Break by drinking nearly every day. So it just hasn't been as fun to toss a few back.

Let's also not forget the unfortunate consequence of weight gain, particularly in the face, which just hurts my heart. And the fact that my heart is literally hurting because spirits really do a number on quite a few of one's major organs.

What's cute is that I've been listing several movies I want to see so as to occupy my time for the next four weekends, one of which is the new "Star Wars" movie. I also downloaded the new Resident Evil game, so that should prove fun. I would absolutely love it if I could get to reorganizing my room and closest, but baby steps over here.

I'll hope against hope that everything I'd wished for in the original C-fF may still occur-stabilization of sleep patterns, weight loss, energy gain, glowing of skin--but won't hold my breath. It will be like a vacation from myself, and I'm kind of looking forward to it.