Last night was game night, by which I mean Counter-Strike. I was first introduced to Counter-Strike in 2000 and have been playing every Wednesday with the same group ever since. We used to meet up and play after business hours but now we’ve evolved to play remotely via Steam.
One staple of CS night is beer. I usually imbibe at least one hops before the night is through and, on rare occasions, have even gone through five or six Newcastles if I’m at a friend’s house during game night. (Bizarrely, the best game night I ever had was after five beers. Go figure.)
Anyway, last night I chose not to have any brewski, not because I didn’t want to, or even that I was sick (I think I’m still a little sick from this flu I got last week), but because I didn’t want to consume the calories. Wow. That’s a major departure from the guy I used to be who’d binge with no care for tomorrow.
It’s worth adding that I still drink beer, and that I sill enjoy myself with more than one… but until I lose these last five pounds, I’ve informally chosen to go off the wagon. Don’t worry—I’m still kind of looking at myself and going, “Who are you?”