My drinking ban officially ended a couple of weeks ago in NYC. I didn’t mess around with the comeback, either. No sirree. I went from not drinking for six weeks to having massive gin and tonics for dinner that Saturday night — due to a last-minute change of plans to see the broadway show, The Trip To Bountiful — and following those drinks up with some snacks and wine at STK. The next morning, I was reminded what it’s like to hate your life upon opening your eyes. My hangover was not small. Since that night, I’ve only had a couple of nights that have involved booze.
As I wrote in February, I decided to take a break from drinking. I figured the results would be the same as when I gave up alcohol a few years ago for a few months: more energy, less time at bars/more at coffee shops, up earlier on weekends. This has definitely been the case. However, this time around, I’ve noticed a significant change: I’m not all that excited to drink again.
This change in perspective is not something I was expecting, but I like it. Since my self-imposed ban has been lifted, I’ve said “no” to wine with dinner more often than not, which means I’ve really savoured it the times I’ve said “yes”. I’ve given more thought to outings with friends — choosing coffee shops over pubs — and have yet to open one of the many bottles of wine sitting in my apartment. For those reasons, my experiment was more successful than I’d hoped it would be.
I won’t give up alcohol for good, but I will be a much choosier imbiber. Cheers — with a coffee mug — to that.