30 days hath September, April, June and the end of my bender

As you may or may not know, yours truly has been off the sauce for a total of 29 days. I know, I can’t hardly believe it either. Why would I do such a thing, you wonder? Well, for one, I’d been on a booze bender since, oh, I don’t know, mid-October. Not every day; never during work hours; but I was tipping back often enough that I felt I was looking at the world through a roll of wax paper. Also, my fat pants had become a little more snug than I’d care to admit — because in addition to losing my ability to operate heavy machinery, I also lose my ability to say no to French fries, chocolate cake and nachos when I drink. Plus, drinking gets expensive.

So, one morning, December 30, I woke up and decided it was time to make a change. Time to step away from the barstool and give myself a break. I declared the commencement of a 30 Day Dry, and that was that. Don’t get me wrong — I’ll never be a full-on teetotaler (although that’s a damn fun word to say, isn’t it? TeeeeeeeeTOTEalurrrrrr), but I expect to have a much deeper appreciation of all things alcoholic once my self-imposed dry spell is lifted. Which, by my count, will be tomorrow. (I’d probably be more excited about this if I hadn’t recently realized that the booze-free me has just as much fun, is just as hilarious and surprisingly just as obnoxious as on-the-rocks me. Go figure.)

You’re probably wondering … what’s the secret? How can you just quit, cold turkey, without going into shock? Well, I highly recommend recruiting your closest circle of friends — I talked three of my besties into joining the crusade and let me tell you, sober trivia nights at the bar are much more fun when you have an abstaining accomplice. I should also mention that of the original 4, only two holdouts remain. I won’t name the two drop-outs because I know they feel shame enough, but I do have to give props to Stephanie, who’s still hanging tough. Also, I should mention that Steph and I kind of celebrated our almost-monthlong sobriety with a slice of Soulful Soup ‘s Beer Bread and a rousing round of Shirley Temples last night. And now we know why, even though I’ve laid off the juice, my fat pants are still in heavy wardrobe rotation.

Next month? We’re considering laying off the cheese.