December 1st: "This year, I will be sensible." December 5th: First party. "Just one event. I deserve it." December 10th: Third party. "It's the season!" December 15th: Fifth party. "I can't miss this one, everyone will be there." December 20th: Eighth party. My liver has filed a complaint. My bank account has sent a cease and desist. My sleep schedule has divorced me. December 25th: Christmas Day. I am eating rice at my parents' house, pretending I have not been partying for three weeks. My mother is suspicious. My eyes are haunted. I have the energy of a phone at 3%. December 31st: Crossover night. I am at church, praying for prosperity, while my body prays for rest. The pastor says "This is your year of abundance!" I hope he means sleep. I hope he means money. I hope he means a liver transplant. January 1st: The reckoning. The bank statement arrives. It is not a statement; it is a tragedy. The parties that seemed free were not free. The drinks that seemed complimentary were not complimentary. The "just showing face" became "just spending everything." January 5th: The resolutions. "This year, I will save." "This year, I will be disciplined." "This year, I will not do Detty December." Next December: Repeat. How dirty was your last Detty December? And what's your January recovery plan — or do you just accept the cycle?
