At the end of week one, and inspired by the Year of Living Sober blog (http://yearoflivingsober.com/), I thought I’d jot down a few musings about my journey so far.
It began after having tinkered for ages about when, how, when, and why to possibly begin this crazy experiment in potential social suicide.
The decision was made for me almost serendipitously after an unintended bender at a friend’s place. The following morning, after having no recollection of the latter stages of the evening combined with a shocking hangover which lasted most of the day, I figured I was almost ready. The “aversion therapy” approach I suppose.
I’d already had an appointment scheduled the following morning with an alcohol counsellor, although the timing of this meeting was more by good luck than good management. He listened to my story and my other drinking habits and suggested that a 6 month break might be a good idea. I think he nearly fell off his chair when I said, “that sounds like a great idea. I was thinking about a year, but 6 months would be a sensible start”.
Instead of avoiding social situations, I leapt in boots and all. I’m a social animal, we all are, and avoidance wasn’t going to cut it.
So, 3 bars, a couple of restaurants, a truffle festival and an evening of sober post concert revelry later, (I said I was a social animal) here I am. I made it! The first week.
It seemed dangerously easy but I’m not going to be lulled into a false sense of security. The hot toddy without the booze, the San Pellegrino Rosso as a Campari substitute, lemon lime and bitters, the mocktail and a buddy bottle of coke were all very well, but the moment will come when a seriously good wine will pass me at the table and I’ll nose it. The desire to consummate any olfactory bliss with my tastebuds could well become an irresistible urge.
Ah well. C’est la sobre vie. And so far so good.
Now to face all my friends in the wine, liquor and hospitality world.