Rehab: Everyone's Doing It

My friend told me she saw a shirt that says, "I'm so hungover I could die." She says that I should wear this shirt every Saturday. I laugh but then think, is my typical weekend behavior much different than all those precautionary tales we hear about binge drinking? Is it much different than that of the celebrities who enter rehab for partying too much? Am I cautionary tale one step away from simulataneously flashing my crotch and the peace sign to whoever is standing nearby?

Lately, rehab seems like the favorable thing to do. But, when did it become a celebrity's act of contrition? Does the fact that a person is going to rehab answer any questions of the destructive behavior that has proceeded entry into rehab? I flashed my crotch at the world to see, but now I am in rehab. I made aggressive, racial slurs, but now I am in rehab. O-k, we forgive you. Is it really believable that those publicly taking part in rehab services are going to quit drinking, partying, cracking out?

If this is the case, then I have saved myself a fortune because Monday through Friday is rehab for me. I can use those days of the week to apologize for any behavior that was showcased on Friday through Sunday that might be deemed inappropriate. Monday through Friday I mirror the look of that of a semi-responsible adult. I go to bed at a decent hour. I don't eat meals that come from the drive-thru and typically refrain from drinking alcohol, partying, and cracking out. But, then comes Friday and it's a different story. Everything I have learned during the week, all the brain cells that I have regained slip away into the early morning hours of Saturday. If the Friday night is a particularly rough one, meaning that I have either a) puked, b) drunk dialed, c) passed out with my clothes on or d) all of the above, then I'm cursing myself the next day while I hug the base of the toilet and lay on the cool bathroom floor. I repent for my sins, promise to do better, and pray for the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (Jaegerbombs always cause vomit reflex), the courage to change the things I can (not drinking so fast and furious) and wisdom to know the difference (I thought I knew). By Sunday evening I am feeling better with McDonald's, Sprite and naps on the couch having such miraculous comforts to my body, mind and spirit I feel that I am in control once more.

The week begins again. I go to work. I pay my bills. I go to the gym and watch reality tv. I have kicked my habit. I am rehabilitated. I didn't need 30 days to figure it out, only five. So if Saturday is the day to wear a shirt that says, "I'm so hungover I could die", then I believe Friday night I should start wearing a shirt that says, "Never fear rehab starts again on Monday."