I like those odds.
There have been many proud moments in my life. Calling Jessica Simpson a fat and untalented
. Ironically pretending to strike a blow for Judaism against the Black Eyed Peas
. And, of course, murdering Daniel O’Brien
. But Day 30 of my treatment, when I was declared clean and sober, would have to be like nine or 10 on the list. Definitely top 20.
In 30 days, I’d learned that Facebook was one huge masturbatory time suck. Yes, of course, I already knew that at the beginning of ’09 as evidenced by that quote at the start of the column, but now I learned it again. And it was taught to me by someone who was paid to say it, so it's that much more true.
I also learned techniques for dealing with the cravings. For instance, now when I want to play scrabble at three in the morning, instead of going online, I wake my wife and take out the board game. And if I want to play scrabble with someone I don’t know, I ask her to wear that wig and talk in a German accent. By the way, it turns out that that chick Natalie was my wife. I knew she looked kind of familiar. I just hadn't seen a lot of her in the last two years, what with the HBN and social media-ing we were both engaging in.
I approached the center of the circle and held up my sobriety medal with pride. David was quick to offer support.
Gladstone what the hell are you doing? Sit down.
I just wanted to thank you all for believing in me. This medal means a lot.
First of all, we don't give medals. And secondly, if we did, you wouldn't get one. Just this morning, I caught you trying to update your status on a calculator.
Well, if I didn't graduate, how did I get this medal?
You won it at some stupid reading and you never take it off because you're a huge narcissistic loser.
Good one, David. But if I'm such a huge narcissistic loser than why would someone as cool as I think I'm so great? Yeah, you think on that.
So I left the treatment with Natalie/wife and medal in hand, proud of conquering my addiction. Understandably, the group was saddened by my loss. Pedro called out.
Gladstone! Don't go. How will we live without being part of your life?
Oh, don't worry friends. I'll keep you posted on... (wink) Facebook.
The group stared back blankly, and I recovered gracefully from my faux pas.
Um, I mean, not Facebook. Twitter. No. Um, a letter? Yeah, like with paper and stamps and stuff. That still exists, right? Cool. I'll drop you line.
And with that, I closed the chapter on my days of addiction and started my new life.
Help Gladstone battle his addiction by visiting his revamped website and/or subscribe to his site's feed. You can also follow him on Twitter and, of course, stalk him on Facebook. UPDATE -- Facebook friends almost maxed out. Why not join the Gladstone/HBN fan page and stay abreast of Gladstone/HBN events?