So much for sobriety...

Attempting to better myself physically and spiritually, I stopped drinking about a month ago. It was going well. My bank account was at all-time highs and my fear of driving home was non-existent. I was even still able to go to the bars and pound glasses of water, while being called creative names for parts of the female anatomy of course. This past weekend was no different. Why is it when you don't want to drink, everyone offers to buy you one? After I eat and drink water, I watch everyone drink beer and shots of tequila. I feel like a vegetarian at a 4th of July BBQ. Sometime after that, someone announces that they're buying a round. My balls descend and I say, "You know what? I'll do one. Gimmie a shot of Jack." One down. A group of girls that my boy knows is in an adjacent booth, accompanied by their boyfriends/possible hookups/losers paying the tab. "Hey! We should all do shots!" Jack Daniels goes down like so many girls I know. Two down. Far be it from me to freeload off my friends. Sense the sarcasm? "It's my turn!!" I buy a round of shots and beer chasers. Three and four.....all within an hour or so. Two 'aged' women start hitting on us. Well, when I say hitting, I mean annoying. And by aged, I mean saggy, PTA members. Another goes down, unfortunately not one of the ladies. Five. And maybe six...I don't remember. After a drunken rampage at our place of employment, we recruit fellow co-workers for an impromptu party. Luckily they have beer, because we decided to drive rally-car style through residential Auburn and we missed the 2am deadline for alcohol purchase. We eventually get to where the 'party' was with 10 or so people in tow. I start off double-fisting Coors Light. I HATE Coors Light. Seven and eight. I decide to not mingle with the hot girls and instead throw the dog's chew toy at their feet. No one cares. Nine. More people show up, but they can't get in the gate. I go to help, but first I need a beer. Ten. I'm not any help, since I'm too drunk to remember the pass code. I'm back in, I hit on a girl who obviously is not feeling me, and I decide to join in on a discussion on mortgage rates. Yeah, I have no idea whats going on. "Is there any beer left?" Eleven. After numerous spilled drinks (none by me surprisingly), the party is over and I take upon myself to shut off the music and clear everyone out. I don't live there, but I do it anyway. I also to take it upon myself to decide who can drive and who can't (basically the two that passed out). I am not the right person for this job. Maybe twelve? I get to stay because I'm cool....and I could blow a 0.20 or so. I think my drunkenness peaked at around 6 or 7am when I trip over a small dog who found his way in my blanket and I befoul the hallway bathroom. I was probably at about 0.27 or so, seeing I couldn't navigate my way back from the bathroom. I figured I can puke my way to sobriety. And I be damned if it didn't work. Once I was able to open my eyes (20 minutes later), I went back to bed. The dog didn't think it was a good idea to join me this time. Woke up a few hours later just to walk a half mile or so back to our cars. Got home, and didn't leave my couch until 10:30pm or so when I felt it was a good idea to eat something. I thought maybe this was the reason I stopped drinking. Oh well, quitting is for quitters. Oh, and I'm buying a breathalizer to have actual BAC to report next time.