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The End of Dry January

I’d never considered giving Dry January a go before, but this year I couldn’t wait to get started. Maybe it was because we got stuck into the Christmas spirit a little earlier than usual, or just that my body – now in its forth decade – has finally accepted its limits and was begging for a month off the Prosecco. Either way, I was in the zone and ready to be alcohol free for 30-days!

I didn’t do anything to prepare myself for the long weeks ahead. I did not banish wine from the house or pour good bottles of Chablis down the sink. I left everything exactly the way it was.

Everyone told me that the first few days would be the hardest, but they passed without so much as a flicker at the wine rack. We had people over for drinks and I happily filled their glasses with wine while I sipped on my fizzy water. I went to my brother’s birthday lunch and we all had a nice cup of tea! I even enjoyed a sober night out in Chelsea.

Not only was Dry Jan not a struggle in the slightest, but I actually rather enjoyed it.

I went to bed early every night with my kindle for company and woke up 11-hours later, feeling rested and ready to tackle the day. All those extra hours I had wished for a month before just miraculously appeared; and my never ending to-do list shrunk to manageable bullet points while I cracked on doing stuff. It would seem I am much more productive when I am not tired or hungover!

I thought I would be glugging straight from the bottle when January finally came to a close, but I felt like I could go even longer without booze. In fact, I think I will miss being dry more than I missed the wine.

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Wife to a Greek God(zilla). Mother to our Grenglish son. Sometimes funny. Mostly not. Unless drunk, then I think I am hilarious.

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