An Elegant Sabbatical from Alcohol
Let's rebrand bad choices!
(Give your eyes a break and saunter on over to this spot to hear me read this out loud to you!)
Six years ago I quit drinking! (Cue: slow-motion hair flip.)
What a feat! I was so impressed with myself. Here I am writing about it many years later, you can tell I’m STILL impressed with myself — even though it only lasted for three years.
Because of course, there was that time three years ago on my 40th birthday in Costa Rica when I started drinking again that totally brought me back into the world of bad habits for another three years, for the love of all beautiful poetry, but that’s a story for another time.
Let’s talk about success here for a bit!
My First Sabbatical from Alcohol
In 2010 I decided I was going to take a month-long sabbatical from my informal but regularly scheduled chore of going to every happy hour I could find.
Have you ever tried this before?
I mean the sabbatical from drinking. It received some irritating marketing term recently that I’d rather not remember. Doesn’t a sabbatical from drinking sound so much more elegant than “quitting drinking” or “quitting alcohol” or “quitting drinking for a month until I go back to it with even more energy”? So dignified! I think I just heard some opera starting up softly behind me.
So yeah, it was totally time for my elegant and dignified self to start with the (wo)man in the mirror and make that change.
It was January, the somewhat irritating time of resolutions and change and all that nonsense. Who wants to make a change THEN? Ugh.
I hadn’t really heard of anyone doing or SAYING dry January then but now it’s impossible to not hear about it hourly.
I wasn't sure if I could do it.
I had a lot of concerns.
Here are a sample of The Questions Holding Me Back:
What would I drink?
Water? (Bland, but essential)
Club soda? (Disgusting)
Diet C*ke? (What? Hell no! Foul taste and chemicals).
Coffee? (What? Constantly?)
What would I do after work?
What would I do later at night?
What would I do at parties?
Would I still be invited to parties?
Could I still go to bars? Everyone went to bars and many social things happened at bars.
What would I do with my coworkers? I've worked at many places where drinking was as much a part of the work as what happened before 5pm.
And, lastly: could I actually do it? ... If I stopped, would I get The Shakes? (AKA: delirium tremens).
These were massive questions I didn't have the answers to but I was still intrigued by this idea for a gaggle of reasons which will follow in another stupendous bulleted list:
Sabbatical (and Beyond) Perks of Less Alcohol in This Bod
My wallet. I was spending way, way too much money drinking out and drinking in. How much? I had no idea, but I knew that it was more than I wanted to know. Or spend.
My brain. What was that wrinkly pink muscle like without alcohol? I didn't start drinking until I was 20 but once I started, I rarely stopped. Ugh so gross to say but I’m doing it /saying it anyway.
My liver. It was time to give that hard-working beast a little vacation.
My hangovers. As is traditional, they were lasting longer and longer and longer and feeling worse and worse. Drinking was not just wasting my time, money, and organs the night I went out, it was increasingly devouring the following day.
My stomach. When I would go out to smash around with friends (or even to read alone at a bar, one of my favorite activities), I’d resort to eating whatever greasy monstrosity was around to try to limit the effects of the dreadful hangover. Oh, the rumbling of another helping of mac and cheese or fried blah blah blahs. How did you do it, dearest digestress?
My self-control. Did I have any?
My time. How much could I accomplish when happy hours and other drinking was removed from my life?
My dear poets and scientists, dancers and doctors,
I DID IT
And I felt like I could do anything. But thennnnnn at the end of January, I was ready to celebrate my success…
By going to happy hour at the Sharp Edge in the Friendship neighborhood of Pittsburgh so I could get a half-price pesto pizza, and of course, some half price beers.
(SPOILER: When I moved back to Pittsburgh for my pandemic transpo job, I was LIVID when I discovered the Sharp Edge was no more. Or maybe just filled with despair. That pesto pizza was really gd scrumptious!!)
But then I failed! My first sabbatical didn’t take! It didn’t influence my behavior at ALL. Bad habits returned immediately as though my body preferred to be filled with beer rather than blood.
And it was time to party on (Wayne) and try to dry again next year.
Failure Means There’s Another Chance to Succeed in the Future
What am I? Some cereal box motivational coach? Who knows where that came from. EW it’s so annoying but I think it might be true.
BRB it’s the future and I gotta go succeed.
“I know you want me. One, two, three, four, uno, dos, tres, cuatro” - Pitbull
Questions!
What about you? Have you transitioned away from alcohol in your life? What is your go-to out of the house beverage? Leave a comment if you like!