I barely believe it myself.

I have some shocking news. At least, it's shocking to me. (And the fact that it's even shocking should tell you something right there.)

But, anyway.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls - actually no, I hope there are no boys or girls reading this blog, I think it's safe to say this is an "Adults Only" kind of place. I mean, I was speaking about vaginas yesterday, for crying out loud.

Okay, where was I?

Oh yeah.

Ladies and gentlemen - I must share with you that today is my 3rd day of not drinking a drop of alcohol.

I feel the need to boast about this because it is a big deal to me. It is a feat. It is an accomplishment, if you will. I don't think it's any secret around these parts that the bottle and I have become fast friends in my adult years. Nor do I think it's a secret that some may think I'm an alcoholic in the making.

But here's the thing.

A few things have happened in the past few days that have made me re-think my drinking habits (at least for this week, anyway).

Incident #1: Me and the scale.

Remember that one time where I decided to ban my scale? I was hopping on that thing way too consistently so I decided to ban it altogether and stop being so cuckoo. Then, of course, as you know, we got rid of everything when we traveled, and I certainly wasn't going to travel the world with a scale in my backpack, so for the last 9 months, I just haven't owned one or even thought about owning one.

Then. Oooh, then. 

This past Saturday morning, while we were staying at The Dizzle's Madre's Casa (<--insert Spanish skills), I saw her scale in the bathroom and thought, 

"Hmm. Why not? Let's just take a little spin on this ol' thing and see where I'm at these days! I mean, I ran home like 4 times these past few weeks, so it can't be that bad!"

I tapped the scale with my toe to reset. Waited till it showed zero. Hopped on (sans clothes, of course), let out my breath, and waited. One...two....- I'M SORRY, WHAT THE EFF DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!

I couldn't believe my eyes. TEN pounds heavier than when I met The Dizzle?! Count it. T-E-N.

Ohhhh no, no, no. Nope. No way, Jose. 

So I marched myself down to Target that very day and purchased myself a scale.

Now, I know what you're going to say, "Michelle, it's not the number that counts, it's how you feel. It's how your clothes fit. It's your inner beauty that matters."

Well, I'll tell you what - The number does matter to me, as faux pas as that is to say, I don't feel all that great lately, and my clothes? Let's just say it's time I stop blaming the dryer for their snugness. And yes. Inner beauty does matter. But I think I've got that covered. ;)

Anyway, I feel as though having my own scale will allow me to (reasonably) monitor my status and progress, while holding myself accountable and being proactive to eat better and work out more.

Done and done.

Incident #2: Me and the grocery store.

Sunday was, well, a blur. The day started off with bottomless mimosas at Circa. And bottomless they were. We then proceeded to head over to this place called Tipsy Pig. And tipsy it was. After that, somehow, we all thought it to be a good idea to purchase more alcohol and bring the fun back to our place. And fun we had.

This is where the grocery store happened.

Sunday is usually a day dedicated to grocery shopping, cleaning, and errands. The Dizzle and I had a whole long list of groceries that we needed to stock up on for the week. And in our drunken stupor, we somehow thought it was the perfect time to go to the store and do said shopping.

Do you know what we ended up getting (which, mind you, I didn't know until the next morning)?

1. Bean dip.
2. Tortilla chips.
3. Pasta Salad.
4. Ground beef.

That's it. Not one thing from our list.

Can you say: Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol?

Incident #3: Me and Monday morning.

All day drinking on Sunday?
Waking up at 6:00am for work on Monday?
Enough said.

///

So here's the thing! Hear me out! The last few days of "incidents" have left me feeling a tad disappointed in myself. And really, all signs lead back to the alcohol. I easily drink more now than I ever have before. And if you remember that one time I broke down my monthly caloric intake strictly from the wine, then you can imagine why I am considering this change in habits.

I'm not saying I'm banning alcohol from my life. Clearly, I'd die from the detox if I did. Kidding.
But what I'm saying is....I'm not getting any younger. There needs to be some sort of moderation in my life.
I should be taking care of my body. Not drowning it in Pinot Noir.
If I want to see my clothes fit better, then I need to stop complaining about it and just do something about it.
If I don't want to wake up feeling groggy with a massive headache that threatens to make my eyes explode, then I need to be more responsible and stop after my 8th glass of wine...6th....4th?

So yeah, am I proud of the fact that it's day 3 of not drinking and giving my body a rest? Yes.
Did my friend just message me about a new place that has bottomless mimosas halfway through writing this post and I found myself excited about it? Yes.
Do I think I need to find a happy medium? Yes.
Do I know exactly what that is just yet? No. Maybe. I'm working on it.

But seriously though, why do we have to be so responsible when we're adults?
Is it because they don't want to see us end up on the streets?
Because, I mean, this guys looks pretty cool. Relaxin' them legs and enjoying a drank.
We could be good friends, maybe.

I kid. I kid.

Another day of rambling with The Mishster.
Over and out.
xoxo