Drink, drank, drunk

So, now that my diet is officially "done", I'm allowed to go back to eating and drinking anything I want (in moderation, of course).
Some of my dear, dear friends see that as a free pass to drag me out and get me sloshed with them. Since I'm allowed to drink, that means I should, right?
Everyone seems to think that. Everyone except me.
Mind you, I'm thrilled to once again have the option to have a glass of wine with a nice dinner or a beer with the boys... but when it comes to going to the bars and knocking back shot after shot (after shot) of Jack? Not sure I am up for that anymore.
Sure, the couple of months I spent hanging out at the bars with the boys was a lot of fun... and fairly necessary during that period of my life. But that's not really me. Never was.
And now that I'm getting things back on track in so many areas, that's one place that I think I just don't belong anymore. I just feel too good physically after all of this to put that many toxins back in my system. And the escape alcohol provides is just a temporary one. I would much rather be proactive and work to make my life better through positive change than hide from it at the bottom of a bottle.
Don't get me wrong. I'm sure that a special occasion will arise now and then that calls for such celebration... maybe I'll even kick a few back at Joey's wedding this weekend...
...but for now, I think the forecast is looking fairly dry...
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