One week from today is my Soberversary! I can't believe it. A whole year off the sauce. A whole lifetime to go. Actually, I never let myself think about it that way, so lemme shut up. The only way to celebrate my Soberversary is really to make all of my friends and friends of friends come to a bar and drink with me. Luckily, Jon the mixologist is going to hook me up with some classy mocktails he's making just for the occasion so I won't be falling off the wagon.
I will, however, be telling a story.
I love telling stories around the dinner table and across the cocktail table. But standing in front of a bunch of people and telling the story of the absolute worst experience of my time in rehab scares the shit out of me. Last night, I practiced in front of Melissa and The Brians and even then, standing before my closest friends, I was shaking.
So, if you'll be joining us on Monday night, and I really hope you do, please be kind. I'll be sharing "Rehab Jesus" which is the day that the rehab shit hit the rehab fan. I really hope people think this tale of woe is funny, although after I told it to Mel and The Brians, they were all teary, rubbing my shoulders, "Awww Bethy" at me.
And they'd heard it before.
I've been waiting a long time to share the juicy details of my 28 day adventure. So come hell or highballs, in front of 5 or 50, I'll spill. I can't get drunk anymore. I've got to get my kicks somewhere else. And a public performance of Rehab Jesus is pretty much the equivalent of base jumping as far as I'm concerned, so here goes!