Avoidance at all costs

For three years, I've been asking myself the same questions on my way home from work/school: What am having for dinner? Do I have homework? What's on TV tonight? Is there enough wine in the apartment?

Four weeks ago, after much thought, I decided to make a conscious effort to cease all drinking during the work week. Why?

I was a wino. A lush. A poor man's Amy Winehouse, decidely not in rehab.
I was wasted. I was boxed. I was my liver's arch nemesis.
I was trashed, I was twisted, I was one martini short of Karen Walker.

But, why?
Avoidance.

I started drinking every night three years ago when I moved into my first apartment. My first night there I became close friends with the man who owned the liquor store on the corner. To be honest, I'm not sure if that relationship could be defined as friendship, considering the only thing he knew about me was that I liked when he had gallon bottles of Carlo Rossi Sangria in stock.

So recently, when I viewed my progress over the past three years in every aspect of my life, I realized that, while in my coulded state of mashed-grape euphoria, I was a loser. I am still making shit money; I still have little idea of what i'd like to do with my life, or at least haven't made many moves to clearly define it, anyway; I'm still a child at heart, in all the wrong ways.

I can relate to Johnny Truant. I see why he lived the life he did, full of boozing, promiscuity, and drugs. After his distressing childhood, he created a life for himself devoid of responsibility, a world I can relate to. It's a fun life; a sad life really, and therefore, I had to make a change.

I am proud of Johnny for ending his substance abuse so that he could remember the small details that make life worth living; the details that help everything make sense.
I hope he would be proud of me.