Drying Out, Shaping Up

Ahhh, what a week. Thanks to the snow, I have worked 4 hours since Friday. Last Friday. All work done on that Friday. Hence, this was a week of vacation, essentially. And now, it is heading into a three day weekend. So, come Tuesday morn, I will have not worked in 11 days. I know sweet right? And though it may sound like I am all important and shit, I do not think next Tuesday is gonna be a barn burner of a day (fingers crossed though!).

Anyway, the lady and I went out shopping today (despite my numerous protestations of cluster-fuckery on the metro rails, which, not so bad at 2 pm, shitshow at 6-7) to the Pentagon City Mall. Close to where I live in the Virgina-land, but the lady and I have hunkered down at her pad in the Cleveland Park neighborhood of DC to ride out the storm, which meant a fairly long subway ride, or at least, a transfer. So we shop and whateve's, look at nice shit we cannot buy, she buys me some stuff for my upcoming Birthday, and we grab some lunch at Harry's Tap Room, and let me say, that shit was good. Had me some sort of Creole sandwich (in support of New Orleans of course, if you did not notice my pseudo fan-yet exuberant twitters on the Super Bowl). And, its all organic, which is important to the woman.

So we be eating and talking and I am making some funny faces and she is trying to steal my food (cause my Creole samwich was much better than her boring burger (she should have gone with the Bison Burger)), and the subject of Lent comes up. The woman, being Greek Orthodox, has lent starting next Monday. Not sure when all you Catholics lent start, could be the same day, but on this subject, I know not dates, nor times, nor understanding of why.

She becomes disappointed that she has to stop eating meat for two months. She then turns to me, and starts talking about how I should give up beer with her. Me, being not religious, laugh, and say hell no. She starts talking all about how it is important test of will power, if you can do this you can do anything. All to no avail. You cannot tempt me with that kind of self-empowerment shit. I am the man. I know it. I don't need to give up beer to verify that (though it is when drinking beer, such as now, that I feel most like the king of the world).

She keeps on with her gibber jabber, and finally, to get her to stop, I suggest that if she gives up chocolate, in addition to meat, I will give up beer. Which she shockingly agreed to. And beer somehow became booze. And two months became three months. And it became Chocolate v. Booze. And if I make it three months, she is going to get me a kindle, and if she makes it three months, I have to get her one of the tiny laptops that weigh 4 ounces (or something). Regardless, first one to cave treats the other to dinner at Komi.

So this somehow got real fucking serious. But wish me luck.

Note: I think the going over/under on how long I stay dry is two weeks. If I were me, and I am, I would bet the under.

Note #2: The contest does not start today. It begins Tuesday. For several reasons that are really two. One: I saved a couple bucks by getting chocolates delivered on Monday, so I turned it into a weekend of Valentine's Day. Flowers today, special dinner tomorrow, secret surprise on Sunday (cause she reads this), and chocolates on Monday. Two: My Birthday is on Monday. And I have no work. Seems like a fittin' day to get plastered-ish one last time. For three months.

Note #3: As to the shaping up, the women insists when I give up booze, I will lose some weight. I think that is true. Before snowmageddon hit, I was doing well with the whole gym thing. Well quasi-well. But anyway, hitting the gym more after the booze goes bye bye.