In a national survey conducted in 2006 and 2007 by the U.S. Substance Abuse and…
The ‘High’ Bucket List
Complete these “High Bucket List” milestones to know that you’re really loaded (and that you really need help getting your life back under control).
Text Your Ex
The classic. You haven’t really been high if you’ve never texted your ex to let her know how great you’ve been doing since the breakup. Because you’re doing great. High. Alone. On your couch. Watching Sports Center. Eating Hot Cheetos. Really, really high. Really, really great.
You’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror since eight pinot grigios ago and you’ve finally realized what’s missing. Bangs. Crooked, too-short bangs that you will cut yourself with the dull kitchen shears from the knife block on the counter. You’re so pretty.
Park on the Lawn
You are fine to drive. You may have been a teensy bit over-served at your niece Rachel’s bat mitzvah, but no need to call Uber. It’s all good! After trying to start the car with the key to your gym locker, you drive exactly eight miles an hour with your hazard lights flashing the whole way home, just to be safe. It occurs to you that parking on your lawn will get you into your front door that much faster. Excellent. Why didn’t you think of this before?
Who doesn’t love a little tipsy karaoke? When you hear your jam, you just can’t say no! Nelly’s “Hot in Herre” is on! You’re into it, man! You’re into it all the way until security finds you in aisle five at BevMo singing in your underpants. “I am get-ting so hot, I’m gonna take my clothes off!”
You are wasted. You are checking Facebook on your phone. There’s an update from that tool you used to work for at that temp job. Now seems like a good time to write on his wall to let him know how you really felt about him and all of those other idiots in his office. Maybe check in on your high school crush and leave a sexy video comment on his post about his deep-sea diving trip. While you’re on a roll, head over to LinkedIn and tell Gail in HR that her nervous Chihuahua-style laugh makes you cringe. Let loose. You’re a truth-teller!
Beer Goggles Make Out Sesh
It’s 1:45am and that guy (girl? probably a guy? unclear) sitting next to you is so much more good looking than you remembered from when he (she?) started hitting on you a few hours ago. You’re making out with him/her. You like making out. Making out is fun, right? When the lights come up in the bar at 2 a.m., you finally get a good look at your tongue tango partner and realize he/she looks just like your middle school social studies teacher because … “Oh, hi Mr. Marshall?”
Shizz-Faced Shopping Spree
You’ve had a few hard ciders or 10 and polished off some edibles — your usual Thursday night — and you’re cruising the Internet. Time to buy yourself the entire $1,400 contents on your Amazon wish list. You have Prime with free shipping, so it’s cool. You’re broke but maxing out your office expense account Visa is NBD since you can totally pay that back. Eventually.
You are on the bus headed to meet your bros at the pub after a little at-home party before the party. Then it gets a little fuzzy. You wake up on a bench in the park the next morning wearing somebody else’s T-shirt with the word “penis” written on your forehead in lipstick. Happens to everyone, right? Right?
Fries With That?
You’re high and you’re at that all-night diner downtown next to the club because of course you are. You order the chili cheese fries burger melt with extra onions because of course you do. After piling it all in your face, you stare at the empty plate and wonder why you didn’t, just this once, order the fruit plate. You are suddenly queasy and realize that you are about to see that chili cheese fries burger melt with extra onions again. Gag.
Your friends know you have a problem. Your family knows you have a problem. The local police department knows you have a problem. YOU finally get it that you have a problem, and you’ve discovered the reasons why not to get high. Go to rehab, do the work, and start a new Sober Bucket List with just one item on it: Have a Life.
By Lisa Rae Rosenberg