Weeks Seven, Eight and Nine
Oh how the weeks are flying by! I’ve wanted to blog but have had too many things in the air at one time. A development contract, some bartered web design work, the new record, two different side projects. And tomorrow my wife gets her picture taken for a feature in D Moms.
Still not a lot to share about any of those things in said air. But I do want to share this talk by one of my favorite people, Aaron Draplin. If you want to be inspired, love awesome people and aren’t put off by a lot of salty language, spend an hour with this little gem (dead link)
I’ve known for a long time that giving up the drink would be the single biggest contribution I could make to my health both mental and physical. But I’ve had an ongoing affection for beer that has bordered on a creepy one-way love affair. Because clearly beer doesn’t love me. The weight I can’t lose as long as it’s around. The lack of late night productivity. The morning seasickness. And I’ve been fighting clinical depression for over two years while taking dose after dose of depressives most every night. Pretty f–king stupid.
Last year I abstained as a matter of principle for two separate months (February and July) but failed in a third attempt (September). I realized a month was too short; it didn’t break the habit; it was a sprint, not a marathon. So after a lot of deliberation and a little procrastination I have embarked on a minimum six month time of sobriety.
I’m currently 2.5 weeks in. I’m down half a belt loop (weight is about the same). I’m more productive. I can’t tell yet if I’m faster on the bike, but I know for a fact that one is coming (I experienced it in those months last year). (I’ve been a little too busy for decent training lately.) And the most surprising of all, I am noticeably happier. As in, I have had moments of quietly profound realization of my own happiness. This is something new.
I’m also often irritable! (I’m hoping that one goes away.) I’m also even more anti-social than normal. And I miss (good) beer way too much.
Lucy is almost 14 months old. She is so pretty. I’ve tried to be as objective as possible and have come to that determination. She is happy, funny and very smart. This girl dances, tickles, kisses, feeds her farm animals, crawls, climbs, stands and high-fives. She says “hot”, “hat”, “cheese”, “ice (cream)”, “mmm!” and makes the sounds that cats, sheep and cows make. She makes her little toy alligator attack your little toy cat. The cat, should you be in this circumstance, must scream and run away. Because that’s hilarious.
She fist-bumps and beat-boxes. Not kidding.