What the hell is wrong with me?!? I'm forty-two years old, for God's sake, so why the fuck would I think drinking sixteen beers and smoking two packs of cigarettes on a Wednesday night would be a good idea?!? I'm never going to make any progress with my obesity, my enormous debt or my alcoholism if I don't even try to resist! After staying up until 3 a.m. to consume all of the aforementioned toxins, I managed to get to work only half an hour late. But I was so fatigued from the night's abuses that around 12:30 p.m. I had a massive panic attack and thought I was having a heart attack. Fortunately my boss was kind enough to let me go home. (I was honest about the panic attack; it seemed pointless to lie. I didn't mention the previous night's excesses, however.) I finally crashed at about 2:30 p.m. and slept for five hours before getting up for a little while. I played my computer game for a few hours before going back to bed at 11 p.m.
All I can do is take a "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" attitude and try to do better.
"Sort out your fucking life, mate!"
{Pete, Shaun of the Dead}
