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Enough with modern-day abstinence – it’s simply a desperate bid for self-control

The dryness of January ended with overnight snowfall and, according to the app on my phone, the saving of 72 units of alcohol, £84 and 4,697 calories. The calendar shows I managed 29 drink-free days. One night is accounted for by a birthday party at which I drank three glasses of champagne and the hostess’s daughter surprisingly burst out of a cake. The night before, having an early-evening meal in an Italian restaurant, I became so exasperated by the boredom, the sheer even-keel of my days, their monotonous sameness of my mood, that I ordered an Aperol spritz and felt that familiar surge of temporary joy and satisfaction that I associate with the varied world of cocktails.

I’ve never given anything up for Lent. I’ve never even managed 24 hours of Yom Kippur fasting. I’m new to this world. I didn’t think there was a problem with my drinking. I assumed I was a moderate drinker – one or two units, three or four times a week, less if I’m not going out, more if I’m on holiday, when a glass of chilly white wine is the boundary between swimming pool and dinner table. I don’t go to pubs, I almost never drink at lunchtime, I don’t go on benders. It’s many years since I had a hangover and it would never have occurred to me to give up alcohol were it not for the relentless nagging of the Dry January campaign, promising me undreamed-of benefits: better sleep, more money, more energy, weight loss and – this was a new whammy – lowering one’s risk of cancer.

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from US news | The Guardian http://bit.ly/2G7GLSH