Musings | Dry January

Last night, I was out breaking Dry January, in which I admittedly ordered and drank a single short Titos and water that did not give me even a slight buzz (bummer) when I remembered that there are still eleven days left in January. 

Eleven. It really is the longest month, isn't it? 

I'm also performing a month of strict keto with my sister (nothing like a little competition with life's original competition, no? Or you could call it support, whichever!) and I swear, we have been texting each other "half way done" for at least three weeks. 

But, here is what I will concede, winter has been mild and I am so grateful. It doesn't physically hurt to go outside, and so I do, most days. Duke and I have been driving over to the beach most weekends and taking the dogs for a walk a few times a week. And it's dark early in the evening, so I can't see how dirty my floors are when I come home. I mean, it's the small things, right? 

Going back to Dry January, some family is visiting this weekend and I made a conscious decision to practice, shall we say, Damp January for a couple days and so the Titos last night was not spontaneous. It did provide a nice talking point when my sister in law asked me about it and we discovered that - and I'm not sure how well this reflects on us - there is really no good month in which to commit to being dry. Or more accurately, no easy month, right? Because we can say (to her point) the winter months are so dark and dreary, it's just nice to gather and clink glasses in a warm place on a Friday night. Alternatively, I ticked off the many reasons why the opposite time of year would also not be convenient - namely, the sun is out and I'm on a patio, but also the holy trinity of "b's" - bonfires, boats, beaches. All perfect places for the other b - beverages. Margarita season is short, baby, and I live for it. 

But I love Dry January - I really do. The first few weeks are easy because I'm so worn out from indulging myself through the holidays. It's that final stretch that I'd really like something more than a sparkling water, but it's nice to complete a task that is so mildly inconvenient and yet also feels like some kind of accomplishment. When I was in middle school, I wanted so badly to always be on honor roll. They'd print your name in the paper, you know. Anyway, none of it actually mattered. Your 7th grade academic record doesn't follow you anywhere and literally nobody cares if you were on honor roll. Except you - it matters to you, because you did the hard thing, and you got the sense of accomplishment. And isn't that enough? I think so. 

This is a whole lot of justifying for a gal who broke Dry January last night. But we carry on. 

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Post Scripts -

I'm currently reading The Midnight Library, which has bummer vibes. Nora is living quite unhappily when she decides she'd not like to live at all anymore. She finds herself in a library where all the different versions of her life are written down in books that she can simply take off a shelf and begin to live instead. So far, I've made it through three alternative lives, none of which have been satisfactory,  and it's fascinating to consider how small decisions (and the big ones too, obviously) can change our reality. 

Related: What I Read in 2022. 

My favorite author is on a book tour and as much as I love her books, I love her stream of consciousness blogging. 

What a week for food. 

Links and an argument for forced positivity.