Forty days and forty nights...give or take a dozen

I'm going alcohol-free--with the exception of hand sanitizer--for the month of February.  No, it's not in honor of Black History Month.  I just thought I'd give it a shot.  Of course, I'm hoping it will mean the pounds will drop away and that my circadian rhythms will stabilize and my skin will glow a radiant golden hue.  But I'm realistic.  It will be like a vacation, but without the actual fun.  And I have plenty of things to occupy my time.

My room, for one.  Tifferbee brought with her a steam cleaner when she moved in, and my carpet could definitely use a run through. In addition, I have all of my belongings from high school and college my mom shipped me a few months ago to put in storage  boxes.  And I haven't cleaned out my closet, which contains all manner of things of VPA's when he lived here, since I moved in some nine years ago.

Too, I can do things like watch movies and play video games.  I tried to go a month sober several years ago, but I think it was before I had internet at home.  This go round, I have plenty to occupy me.  

And who says I can't do my usual walks around the city?  Just this time, without a to-go thermos.

I'm not too nervous about it.  I just hope it is worth it to some degree.  I won't have to dread Monday mornings or terrible Tuesdays, at least.  And I'm leaving the last weekend of the month as a wild card--if I want to hop back on the sauce starting then, I shall.

Part of this has also been sparked by the fact that I had a wild, sleepless night over the winter holiday from which I'm still recovering.  I do not do well on missed sleep, and I swear, it's just snowballed for the past several weeks.  I'm not getting deep REM sleep and my gym routines are killing me because my body isn't recovering appropriately.  I have migraines due to sleeplessness, but just can't sleep.

So, raise a glass of virgin name-your-poison to February.