So it’s been a week since I put down the bottle of Jack. And Ketel. And Captain’s. And… well, everything.
At first, it was easy. After chugging rum out of a flask last Friday night and inhaling two giant slices of pizza after a few too many margaritas on Saturday night, I was more than excited to stay away from the hooch for a little while. I walked around my apartment in a hungover haze on Sunday, unable to do much besides watch a Millionaire Matchmaker marathon on my couch all day.
“Remember this feeling when you wanna go out and party,” I told myself as I made yet another cup of instant coffee.
Since I normally don’t drink much on weeknights (after that time I had to give a presentation in class and I was still drunk from the night before), it was smooth sailing for most of the week. Even the daily IMs from my guy friends asking me if I was still sober (OK, betting me that I wasn’t still sober) didn’t bother me. After all, being sober on a Monday wasn’t anything new to me.
But then Thursday hit and I felt like a Pavlovian dog, salivating for booze. It didn’t help that I was listening to my iTunes and every single song that came up reminded me of a bar. First Ke$ha, then Journey and then, to dig the knife in a little deeper, Madonna’s Like a Prayer (only my favorite drinking song of all time). I cursed Steve Jobs.
Lucky for me, I had to be up super early on Friday to head back home for the weekend. That meant I couldn’t go out to the bar with my friends and risk tempting myself with the delicious smells of stale beer and Jager. And by that I mean “try to stay sober while my annoying friends take shots and be annoying drunks.”
I got quite a few drunk dials both Thursday night and last night (“Come drink with us! Don’t do this dumb challenge!”) and, I admit, they did make me sad that I was missing out on all the fun, but waking up on a Saturday without a hangover has made it all worth it. It is 10:30 am as I type this. I’m fully dressed, sitting in a coffee shop sipping a delicious mocha. I have a million things to do today and, unlike most weekends, I have the energy to do them, My head doesn’t hurt, I didn’t make any dumb decisions last night (except maybe eating that 4th chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven), I didn’t spend a ton of money, and I will not be wasting my day in a t-shirt and underwear scrolling through my phone trying to find someone to run to the corner and pick me up a Powerade.
It feels great! I’m on a total high, but I didn’t need any illegal substances to get here – just some sleep (a full 8 hours, baby) and some hydration.
I’m not gonna lie, though: I am a bit nervous about this weekend. I have a fancy family dinner for my dad’s birthday (the type of meal that would go swimmingly with a few glasses of wine) and, gasp, the Super Bowl tomorrow. Which I will be watching with my guy friends. Who usually prefer me drunk (I guess I’m more fun that way?). Eating chips and my mom’s famous guac without a nice, refreshing beer (or, more appropriately, a cheap, disgusting Milwaukee’s Best) will be my first real test of this whole sober thing.
But I guess that will be just be the test I need to prepare for my Single Girl Valentine’s Day next weekend, what is normally a three-day chocolate and vodka bender.
Wish me luck!