Why do I still bother to go to a pub and get wasted? I did last Friday- and had a pretty good time- but the rest of the night and following day were punishing. The last thing I remember is doing a shot of Jack followed by yet another Burt Renyolds before waking up under my fitted sheet and mattress topper with my girlfriend no where in sight. Uh oh.
I stumble to the living room where I'm greated with the highlight reel from hell. By the time I finished apologizing I felt like Justin Trudeau. Weak sauce bro. I try to stay away form the hard bar these days, but it has a way of showing up when I'm 5 pints deep and open to suggestions. If you do it right (which I usually don't) shots are fun for an hour, followed by either blackouts or hours of regret. I'm not knocking partying like an animal- I just think I'm over it.
In comes Saturday night, and I veg with edibles. My hommie and I order a pizza and watch the new Chappelle specials (which were awesome!) and crashed at 1am. I enjoyed the night more, spent $25 and woke up productive the next day...
So what the hell am I doing? Sometimes it feels like there's an invisible force- like peer pressure- bringing me out. No one is applying the pressure, but it's a total fear of missing out. As you can tell, I'm too old to bother writing FOMO.
So I'm laying off the hooch for a while, summer is around the corner and I could 'tighten up' anyways. If you hate social interactions sober, try smoking a sativa before or during...it doesn't knock you out and can bring aout your the funny, creaive side.