Why I Don't Drink, or, "If You See Something, Say Something"

So I decided to go out last night. Yep, you heard me — to a bar. In Williamsburg. To see this guy I only know from Twitter play a show. With his girlfriend. On a night when I had work AND school the next day.

I have no idea why I thought any of this was a good idea.

(Yes I do: I wanted an excuse to wear my awesome new boots again.)

Anyway, as you may already know, I'm on a few medications. One of these specifically states that one should not drink alcohol while taking it. Another is alternately prescribed for smoking cessation. I smoke "socially," as in, I smoke because I'm socially inept and it gives me something to do when I feel awkward in public. I think you see where this is headed.

A friend from home once said I'm like a cicada — I only come out once every 17 years. This may or may not have to do with the occasional experience of an evening ended slumped over a garbage can on a deserted subway platform moaning, "Oh God, why do I do this to myself?"

At least my boots stayed dry.