I’ve been dying to stop by the liquor store for the last month. I ran through all the gin and rum we had in our home stock and now it’s just beer and wine – the stuff I don’t drink.

Every time I drive I make excuses to get closer to the store so I can drop another $100 and restock. The discomfort I have when I go home empty handed is all the proof I need that I’m doing the right thing. I need to know I can go without.

I take comfort knowing I’m not desperate enough to drink the stuff I hate. I’ve got no temptations at home. Just my wallet burning in my pocket.

This is a special kind of misery that’s worth it.