I’m pretending right now, by reading back over my blog posts in this category. This one would also do, though there’s a lot of overlap between those two, unsurprisingly. And, in a pinch, you have to love the drunkblogging.

Honestly? I think this might be the source of most of my depression lately. I am So. Freaking. Boring. I mean, the Pack ‘n Play post? Seriously, WTF?

A large part of that, admittedly, is that I’m not drinking, not fooling around with anyone else (besides my awesome husband, which I’m not knocking, but it does tend to reduce the Dangerous Moods), not doing anything remotely rock & roll lately.

Yes, I suppose this stuff is to be expected right now. And yes, not having friends less than six hours away is a major factor. I get that.

And I’d love to believe that, if I did have friends closer than six hours away (or 3000 miles away, or whatever), I’d be less boring. Somehow.

But I’m starting to wonder: am I only interesting when I’m drinking? Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. I’ve been drinking pretty steadily since I started, at about 16. I certainly wasn’t interesting that whole time, but there does seem to be a connection.

I think this worries me a little. Yeah, I’ll eventually be able to drink again, and I’ll regain whatever drunken charm and sociability I believe I have when I’m drunk. And eventually,Β  undoubtedly, I’ll start the random fooling around again. But other than the drinking, am I just Really Fucking Boring? I’m suspecting maybe.

It’s not the cheeriest of thoughts.

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