I tried to conduct a No Drink January.
I, ah, failed.
I saw it advertised around and it got me thinking.
Thinking, god, what a horrible idea.
But I thought I’d give it a go. Mainly I wanted to see if I was an alcoholic. I definitely drink more in the UK than I did in the US. And I don’t know if it’s because now I have children or if there really is more of a drinking culture.
I have gotten better. I don’t drink every day now. I’ve cut back to drinking wine on weekends. Of course, when my kids were younger I needed it more. If I didn’t have a glass of chardonnay in my hand at 6 pm, someone was going to pay.Though it tended to have the opposite affect I wanted. I was sliding down into mellow mode but my children were still flying around the room. I found having a drink actually made me crankier.
Drinking is just a habit, isn’t it? That hankering erupting at about 6:30 like the saliva glands of Pavlov’s dog.
So after a celebratory season like this Christmas and New Years, a 31-day detox seemed like a prudent idea.
And I was going along swimmingly until mid-month when a friend invited everyone to a pub for her birthday.
Well, had to have one glass of champagne, didn’t I? Just to be polite.
Then a couple of days later it was book club. Everyone knows you can not talk about books without a glass of red wine in your hand.
The next week, my husband and I went to Madrid for the weekend and well, what was I going to drink with all those tapas, water?
And then, this past Friday I figured I’d already messed up for the month, so what the hell.
Oh, January has 31 days, not 30?
So here I am in February and mighty thirsty. And though I didn’t manage a complete No Drink January I feel somewhat relieved.
I now know I can resist a drink if I put my mind to it.
I just haven’t put my mind to it….
photo by Marco Veringa (flickr)