I went back to the office this week after over two years of remote work. In the weeks leading up to my return I felt the impending changes on a very physical level. My body was preparing for what it perceived to be a cataclysmic change in my life. This was, decidedly, a highly dramatic reaction my body put me through. You would’ve thought it was my first day of work ever.
Lo and behold, this week involved no cataclysmic events to speak of.
So, yes, I have made the transition back to a hybrid work schedule and all is well. A lot of you are probably wondering why I gave this post such an absurd title and it is because 33 is the age I turned last week. It was also the age Jesus Christ died—as I was reminded by a special person in my life.
I can complain about superfluous mask rules and the abominable abortion laws taking form in various parts of the country but then I remind myself there are people in this world actively fighting for their lives. Over the course of the last month and a half I have been horrified by the atrocities being committed daily in Ukraine. This global development has put me at a pause to reconsider the quality of my life and what I find important. All one has to do is turn on the news, or Google-search cities and communities in Ukraine, to be reminded that things can be a fuck-load worse.
The first quarter of this year has been characterized by not only escalated global concerns, but also complete sober living. On a domestic level. The writer of this blog hasn’t had an alcoholic beverage since November 7, 2021. This is largely due to the SSRI I have been taking. Sometimes I have FOMOed at the sight of my friends and family sharing cocktails—especially during my birthday get-together held of late. But I must say, it has been lovely to wake up without a hangover every single day. It has been lovely to get a thorough night’s sleep. It has been lovely to not chug Gatorade for the better part of a morning and chase a headache away with three Ibuprofen.
No, I can’t say I miss drinking at all. The trade-offs of complete sober living have been fantastic. My reading productivity has escalated. I have read eighteen books this year so far. I wasn’t able to do that when I was getting drunk every Friday and Saturday night. Money is another variable. I haven’t calculated what I’ve saved by cutting out alcohol purchases, but considering my old habits let’s call it 75 bucks a week. That’s about four grand a year by not drinking!
Before you all start to think I’m typing this from atop a soapbox please understand something: I needed to make this change for medical reasons. I had to reevaluate my lifestyle to accommodate Zoloft and save my head. I always loved a cold beer, or three, and hope to enjoy them again in the future. We don’t know what 2023 will bring.
But for now. Clean, sober, gym-going living.
