Sometimes, you've just got to splurge to purge.
Once, maybe twice, a week I relent my quest for purity and get a Goose Island Honker's Ale before boarding the 5:32 train home.
It is a small indulgence that eases me into the ride northward bound, one that costs me a little less than four bills and a willingness to concede to a catnap if I have to.
That said, for the last 34 years I've often beat myself up over the long term costs of this, mostly, innocuous inebriation.
Beleaguered by the guilt of not being more willing and able to give up this poison for a longer, healthier life, I simply mediate with binges of abstinence. The usual attempt at detoxification lasts no longer than three days; most of the time these desperate measures are the result of a bout with a stomach virus, food poisoning or a very rare hangover.
Alas, on average, every couple of years I must endure these nights of terror; of bone-gnawing chills, body aches, gut-wrenching, and incessant expulsion of bodily fluids, all usually coupled by a few hours of fever, than a flood of perspiration.
Hence the vows of "never again" and over-confident pledges of purity. Needless to say, this renewed commitment does not last very long.
I think I know why.
Sipping the last quarter of my beer as we rolled past Morris Heights my contemplation led to the same elucidation that compels me to jump off the wagon over and over again.
Life would simply be too frickin boring and intolerable if it were all about always doing what is seemingly best for you.
Because it is not always best for you.
An occasional indulgence in what's bad for you, can be good for you in the long run. The benefits run the gamut of stress relief, loss of inhibition, expression of emotion, a willingness to talk with strangers, self-satisfaction, unfettered glee, genuine happiness and the compulsion to live and enjoy the moment.
Granted, drugs and alcohol and other vices are not prerequisites for experiencing this menu of benefits, but they sure as hell often help. Especially if you're a stressed out father four-cum-five, corporate drone, manor-owner, hour-long commuter, middle-aged, only somewhat-accomplished and always-yearning to-accomplish-more guy like me.
So go ahead, indulge. I'm giving you permission - live a little , as they say. You just don't know when it will all catch up to you. So, you might as well enjoy it while you can.
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