I know you’ve all seen that Geico “happier than a camel on hump day” commercial, a classic. As it turns out, I had four hump days, but they all fit into one post.
Let’s go ahead and dispel some withdrawal rumors, then talk about the real challenge I encountered. Then I can continue on to fantasizing about my first dab; I’m so close now I can taste it! It’s been too long Errl—too long old friend. 144 hours strong and no sightings of the wife googling Promises rehab; the word withdrawal can officially kiss my ass.
No sweats, no illness of any sort and I am shocked to say it—still no insomnia. As I suspected, my beloved errl is even clean on the way out. Appetite is still low, but at this point I don’t know that I even mind that (hello New Year’s resolutions!) but there is one pressing issue…
How’s this for a blitz—PEER PRESSURE. I’ll be goddamned if the last four days didn’t bring inconvenience of the oiliest variety. I swear, by day six I was looking for candid cameras. It’s as if everyone I knew bought a new rig and scored great shatter the same week. Who would’ve thought the most harrowing part of the experience was the culture?