45 Days and 45 Nights

Is it just me, or are those Jack & Coke canned cocktails the alcohol equivalent of Uncrustables?

The day before Halloween was the last time I had any alcohol. That means, as of this writing, I’m 45 days sober. Not exactly a towering feat of discipline, but given the fact that I’ve never done a Dry January, this is almost certainly the longest stretch I’ve gone without drinking since I was a teenager.

The impetus for this wasn’t any noble calling or come-to-Jesus moment about my health, but rather the fact that I had $1,300 in expenses in November beyond my usual bills for the month. My budget being as tight as it is, I had to excise any frivolous spending, eat a little cheaper than I already do (it’s not like the canned chili at Aldi is any worse than Hormel), and cram in a few extra DoorDash sessions in between other jobs. Nixing drinking for a month saved me about $150-$200.

If I were desperate to rationalize problem drinking, I could claim that $150-$200 isn’t that much money, and sure it’s probably chump change to a lot of people. But consider that $200 is pretty substantial for someone who generally buys cheap stuff, and hasn’t been going to bars much the last few years, which means, yep, that is consumed alone and at home.

So I’m not sure exactly how long this particular streak will go; at first I was set on just November, then it became 50 days, trending toward a big TBD. At the very least if it results in minimizing the solo boozing, it will be a lasting success. The fact that it hasn’t been terribly difficult is obviously encouraging and not all that surprising. I can recall plenty of times when I realized mid-bender I wasn’t really enjoying myself as I forced down another beer. One reason I’m a little apprehensive about having that first drink back is that it can be hard for me to stop. I don’t sip to hang; I throw ‘em back to get wasted.

Part is that is needing an escape from my troubles, though I’m not gonna pretend being wasted isn’t just enjoyable sometimes. In my mental state, however, there’s no telling when it goes bad. Not that I haven’t raged plenty sober as well, but I’ve had all my worst online meltdowns over what has happened to me while drunk.

What started as an exercise in frugality now becomes a desperation stunt to break free from a rut. What could go wrong?

Noted crazy person George Pickens recites a blessing for your health and wellness, hopefully heals his hamstring soon