Everyday was a celebration. The first night home, Saturday night, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, the I'm so hungover I might as well keep drinking day after Christmas, New Years Eve. All of this cause for celebration left me sleepy, loopy, bloated, grouchy, and what I imagine the remaining Seven Dwarfs of Drinking would be. I knew immediately that a break from the drinking, the late nights, the food, and the excess, was necessary. ASAP!
Last year my boyfriend embarked on a sober streak from the day after St. Patrick's Day (no explanation needed) until our half marathon in early May. I wish I could say that I was the supportive girlfriend who said I would do it with him, but in my last semester of grad school before graduation in May, I knew I didn't have his willpower to abstain from the relaxation and the celebration. But I watched him stick through it almost until the end (insert peer pressure from my visiting sister and her boyfriend…thanks guys), and told myself I would complete the task along with him next time he did it.
Flash forward to New Years Day. Holy….hangover. I rolled over in bed, and my first words were, "Boyfriend, I'm doing sober January with you..", as I dozed back to sleep, hating my life, my nausea, and the fact that in a few short hours I would have to drive 4 hours in the car back to Philadelphia, and head to work the next morning. Feel bad for me..
But, unlike this story usually ends (I'm sure most of you can't count the number of times the statement "I'm never drinking again" has come out of your mouth), I decided with sober eyes that I was going to follow through on Dry January. Not because I needed to, but in an effort to honor my commitment to better myself, and take a break from all of the excess (while secretly hoping I'd save some dough, and drop some of that holiday poundage).
While it hasn't been easy to resist an evening glass of wine after a
So raise your club soda, fuel the rumor that you're more than likely pregnant, and here's to a happy, Advil-free January!