I just needed to set a date that I would stop this. I have lots of other stuff I need to do and quitting is the only solution.
You know what's gonna happen. I'll start drinking and wake up a week later in a jail in Havana (FL, not Cuba). The new scorpion tattoo on my ass will be infected, but antiobiotics will clear that up. And someone named Roy will send me flowers every September 25th until I die.
And then sometime later, I'll be back. Just like before. Who'da thought I'd have room on my ass for another scorpion.
(And if you can get the guys at Unshelved to mention this site in a strip, I'll be back sooner. Yes, I'm kidding. Maybe.)