Dry January went so well, that I think I’m extending it for a month…and maybe more. That sentiment is not going to make me any friends. It’s kinda like asking somebody if they want to hear all about your divorce.
But seriously, I think I’m done with drinking alcohol.
My wife and I went out to eat with our family last weekend to celebrate a relatives’ hard-won sobriety and our four full weeks without alcohol. I had not one but two drinks, then eventually a third. The first drink went immediately to my head. Which made me order a second drink. Then it was time for an apre Moscow Mule and the drive home. Then the old paranoia set in of looking in the rearview mirror all the way home, and the buzz that ruined the mental clarity that I had really gotten used to and appreciate.
But the guilt of giving in and going back? I don’t have to deal with it. Plenty of other worries fill my 59-year-old brain.
All the wonderfully enticing colors of the beer cave just turn me off now.
The bite of ginger ale, or orange juice, lime and water does the trick.
I just wish Athletic Brewing didn’t coast as much as a six pack of craft beer.
Travels with Pops 