I’m having an existential crisis.
This program has upended my notions of who I think I am and forcing me to reevaluate how I live my life.
Having rationalized my red wine consumption as a permissible, even healthy, detour from the plan, I started drinking it again, on occasion. But now I notice my body rejects more than one glass of that sweet nectar. Instead of tantalizing my tongue, it tastes bitter at the first sip of the second pouring. Is it the essence of guilt I smell in the bouquet that prevents me from overindulging? Or the knowledge of alcohol’s affect on my body? Or perhaps, I’m simply drinking really bad wine?
I don’t know, but this is a huge problem for me. Now what am I going to do at parties? I’m not particularly good at small talk, thus my fallback position is to excuse myself to go refill my wine glass. After my third or fourth drink my social insecurities (some call it the ability to filter my thoughts and actions) fall away and I break out my cool dance moves, sing karaoke, or make inappropriate comments.
This alcohol-fueled party girl has happily resided in me since college. But now, if I’m not the “party girl” well then, who am I?
Am I one slice of whole grain bread away from joining Greenpeace? Donating my life savings to PETA? Moving into a tree house and smelling like patchouli?
Is that really who I am?
Somebody save me!
Wait, I’ve got it. It came to me like a whisper from the Dalai Lama himself, “try vodka.”