It's 4.42pm, Monday afternoon, and I've spent it restlessly looking for jobs and constantly checking my mobile for missed calls from potential employers. I'm sick with a suspected chest inspection and I've had to cancel my Centrelink appointment because my tonsils feel like sandpaper. The woman on the phone was less than helpful ("No, no appointments anywhere in Melbourne, you'll have to cancel and relodge your claim, NO extensions possible, no no no") and I can feel myself whirl pooling into a nice, comfy nest of self-pity. So far, like normal working hours, Monday blows.

Having already taken 15 minutes from my job-seeking to send my interstate boyfriend an obligatory (but heartfelt) 'Don't-worry-you-won't-fail-university-you're-so-clever-AND-sexy' email, I decided to scroll down my Facebook news in the hopes of finding something entertaining. It happened here, in the newsfeed. Somewhere between 'You, Mr bus driver, are just a big, fat MEANIE!' and 'Fish tank for Sale' was the reason I'm writing this blog to begin with. The reason why it took me 15 minutes to make a cup of tea instead of the usual 5. The reason that made me realise I have more fear than I think.

It was the Hello Sunday Morning website.

Melodramatic? Perhaps. But viewed from an individual whose favourite quote is 'Cognitive Dissonance is your friend', the site is the equivalent of my digital bogeyman, a combination of confrontation and deeply saturated guilt held together by my unthinkable growing interest. As I went to make my 50th cup of tea for the day, my mind went into overdrive discussing the possibilities of committing to a HSM regime:

"I will do that, I need to...you'll never make it through......imagine the jeers, the taunts!...who cares? They'll understand...I'll miss out on social functions...NOT if you're there...Hang on. Why do I feel so torn up about this? I'll quit and that'll be that! What is this feeling? Why am I freaking out? How long have I been dunking this teabag??"

Now, I like drinking. [caption id="attachment_3437" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Charmed, I'm sure"][/caption] In fact- I love drinking. I love the way red wine smells when you dip your nose over the lip of the glass. I love how it compliments food before, during and after. I love sharing a bottle of wine with my best friend on the balcony, drunkenly cackling like mad hyenas into the night. I love cracking open a cold one on a hot day/after work/Friday Afternoons/Sunday afternoons/just because. I love it as a reward after a big day, I love to drown my sorrows in it. But most of all, I love it with cigarettes. The ultimate combination of luxurious poisons, I consider it the epitome of everything good and right in this world, a delicious and toxic sensory delight capable of making of all life's inevitable woes melt away in a simple exhale and guzzle. Yes. I DO enjoy the drink (and smoke, but that's a different day) So much in fact, I'd say I drink everyday; whether it be the daily after work special , the 2 bottles I share with my best friend on 'date night', or the all-night corner-shop piss binge-a-thon that Saturday night brings. It's a fairly repetitive week, one I willingly repeat over and over again without questioning the monotony of the routine, ever. It comes as a surprise to me as I change my bedroom around once a month, clean out my wardrobe every 6, and change homes/jobs like I change underwear (I should hasten to add that I'm FOR hygiene, not against). So why care now? Firstly, at 24, I'm worried alcohol has tied itself in with my personality. I'm worried it has become apart of my identity. I'm worried I've allowed it to define me as little more than a socialite. I'm worried I don't know how to truly interact with other people. I'm worried my life is so boring I drink, and I'm worried if I don't drink, I will be boring. I'm worried I've stopped actively seeking out new places, new people, and new interests. I worry about the time it steals from me because as I grow older, I appreciate that time becomes more precious. [caption id="attachment_3442" align="aligncenter" width="196" caption="Don't leave me"][/caption]

When it comes to goals and what I want from this challenge, I want a lot- with an increase of money and time I want to rediscover what I love, what truly makes me happy, and what I want to pursue. I want to know I have the confidence and ability to say no (and to say yes!). I want the simple, sweet satisfaction of overcoming a challenge I put myself in the way of. I want to see the unknowns, the things I don't know are coming. I want to see a sunrise at the beginning of the day, not the end! Most importantly, I want to carve out a space on this earth that feels like it belongs to me. I'm hoping by removing alcohol, an identifiable tangible substance that negatively affects me physically, mentally and financially, will set off a chain reaction in other areas of my life. I guess time will tell. I'll be honest. Giving up for even a short time frightens me. When it comes to my diet and drinking, I've never so much completed a one week detox without the occasional (daily) cheating and for me, a 3 month challenge is a long and vicious gauntlet whose finish line is at the bottom of a black hole. It will be an exercise in resolve and will power not to hold out my arm and beg someone to twist it. I moved from Brisbane to Melbourne in the past month and whilst still homeless (living with friends), and jobless (boo), it's been lonely, but fun, stressful, but liberating, hard, but worth it. I imagine my HSM experience will be the same. I start June 7th.  Stay tuned!