On the eve of 6 months sober, kinda tempted but kinda not.

Six months was a target date for me. If I made it six months sober I'd reassess whether I can add alcohol back or not.

Fuckin' A, man. I was picturing going to the brewery a couple blocks from my house and buying a growler. They had a peanut butter porter that's amazing for a small town. As Tom Haverford would say, "Treat yo' self."

So, I get to choose. Throw in the towel now or grab one or two more for the road, months that is.

As good as that beer sounds, I've got shit to do tomorrow, both obligations and fun. If I drink tonight, none of that shits getting done tomorrow. Plus I'd be drinking alone, or at least with my dogs anyhow.

So, I'm heading to the store grab some booch and put on my favorite movie. I might even see if the store has any Sioux City Sarsaparilla. No oat sodas for me tonight.

As they say, in the parlance of our times and sub, IWNDWYT