One of the greatest obstacles I come across in my life is a habit to overdo everything. One drink turns to ten, watching a few episodes of Pretty Little Liars turns to the season, and a slice of cake soon turns into Jenny Craig’s worst nightmare. I become infatuated with food, songs, alcohol, T.V., smoking, and snorting coke (just kidding folks) that by the time I think its time to stop I am forced to because, well, there is simply nothing left.
Although I am still a teenager, I am thankful that I can buy a cask of wine and consume the majority of it in one sitting, with my peers thinking nothing of it. God help me for when the day comes that they turn to me and ask “don’t you think you’ve had enough, Maddo?”. Because although I know my consumption of various things is in a large quantity, it happens to be the light at the end of the tunnel for my schooling week.
Concerned parents and friends, fear not, as I am not an obese alcoholic smoker(?). I just strongly believe that life can be much more appreciated intoxicated. With emotions heightened and no fear for bursting into song and dance, what’s not to love? Much to my disgust, there are only few times a year I can convince people to drink alcohol with me for the sake of getting drunk. This is why I love the months of summer.
My friends seem to love it, and even want to do it again, but as soon as the cool winds set in something changes. There is a need to be bored on winter weekends, sit around and mope the inevitable question “what do you want to do?”. I want to pop open the cask of chardonnay under my bed and dance, to be frank with you (Que. Bootylicious by Destiny’s Child).
Maybe I’m being unreasonable, and should step back and look at this from a more mature point of view. Or maybe I should just follow the season as it makes its journey around the Earth?