Lifestyle Changes Are Retarded.

There’s that famous story about the little Russian boy who gets all kinds of overzealous with the wolf sighting claims. I feel a bit like like that panicky, potato-eating pest right about now – because I’m about to do it again. Yes, folks, I’m announcing some immediate and most unfortunate lifestyle changes.

It snowballed. It was just too much packed into one weekend. Thursday I went out for beers after paintball. Friday I went to a birthday party. Saturday I was invited to a co-worker’s day BBQ at his new house in the burbs, and then last minute was invited to Central Square for someone else’s going away party that evening. Sunday morning someone poured me in the direction of North Station for an early Bruins game before sufficiently Superbowl Sundaying the shit out of myself until about 10pm. I woke up yesterday with a sore throat that looked like a python vivisection, and called in sick. Not good.

If you take my list of weekend activities and look at them each separately, it could all come across as good clean fun. I held a baby. I rooted for the home team. I played with a dog. I went undefeated in a sporting event. I cooked burgers, ribs and steak for 10 people. I saw some folks I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. But you have to understand, with the exception of the first 5 minutes of my being in the same room with the baby, all of these events were soaked with enough booze to make Courtney Love stop and suddenly scream “Now just hold the fuck on for a minute here people“.

I have had a great life, and my friends are the most important things in my silly existence. Many would kill to run in the circles I’ve developed over the years. But I can’t keep up anymore. I’m going to be that creepy guy who comes to the party and doesn’t drink, making everybody else extremely uncomfortable. I may also be employed – which is really where this whole diatribe stems from.