That Does It

Today, for the the sake of my liver, I'm officially on the Wagon; I don't know if it was the booze or the cholesterol meds, but the doc checked the blood lab results and the booze has got to go. He invited me to his AA meeting for this afternoon, but I'm not ready for that. So, the Saloon has gone the way of the Humidor, to the stack of former vices that I hope remain former. Of course, if I would only exercise, lose weight, and eat right, I could get off the Zocor...but, I'm better off starting the rest of my life off right.

Bummer, huh? I've actually been dry for two days and have slept at most two hours at a stretch with quite vivid REM sleep. That sucks the most. My sober dreams tend to be lucid...I know I'm dreaming, but I'm powerless to awake voluntarily from the unpleasant ones. Hopefully, continued sobriety will thin these out, or balance them out with lucid dreams of Shania Twain in a hot tub.

So, today I'm pushing the bar up against the wall and will stock up on yummy juice mixes. Wish me luck!