No booze, but just enough hair to get by
Today is my 100th alcohol-free day in a row. January 3rd was the last time I raised a wine glass to my lips. The next day, I started a 100-day challenge with one of my sisters. Her challenge also included daily activity - my commitment to that part was much more sporadic. We can't all be athletic, you know! Geez!
There have been a few drinkers in our family tree over the centuries, so we are well aware of how easy it is to slide across the line from "I enjoy a glass of wine after work" to "I need wine and lots of it. Now." I've never considered myself to be a problem drinker, but sometimes I think I enjoy it more than I probably should. Typically, I just have a glass of Cabernet and go to bed. If I have an extra glass of wine, I'll have to get up and pee in the middle of the night. There are practical reasons not to over-indulge, you see. #oldladyproblems
When my sister told me about the challenge, I thought it would be an interesting experiment. I invited myself to join. As I reflect on the experience, I feel like I did learn a few things about myself. One important lesson was that I can get through my days without it. I filled my post-work hours with other things. I did a lot of jigsaw puzzles to relax. Oh, and I accidentally lost eight pounds. Imagine if I'd actually worked at it!
I didn't find myself sleeping better, though that would have been a nice side effect. I didn't save a penny (thanks to the puzzles). While skipping alcohol for a hundred days didn't yield any miracles, I did like the fact that I thought about it less and less as the days ticked by. I celebrated my husband's birthday in January - no wine. I celebrated my own birthday in February - no wine. My sister did give me some sort of festive Kombucha concoction in a wine glass, however. Now that the challenge is over, I'm feeling pretty content. Will I cozy up to a vodka-cran or a nice Malbec in the future? I'm sure I will, but I'm not in a hurry.
Another big change in my life is that I was able to ditch my wig after eight months of wearing it. The wig got me through some really tough days since the pandemic began (let's also give props to Zoloft, shall we?) and frankly, I thought I looked something-close-to-pretty when wearing it. However, over time, I started to want a divorce from it. Wigs are beautiful but holy cow, they are so hot. That's one thing no one tells you. I wanted to be done with it by this summer so that I don't have to walk around feeling like my skull is on fire. Plus, human hair wigs are a lot of work and require a lot of maintenance. And finally, daily wear causes them to break down over time. The wig's days were likely numbered regardless.
In March, I made an appointment to have my hair cut in April. I made it well in advance in hopes that I'd manage to grow a few more strands by then. It worked! Last week, I walked out of the salon feeling like a whole new person. I have the pixie cut I never would have dared to get (but now had to get because the length is all I had to work with). I'll keep working towards more/longer hair but for now, I'm thrilled!
Come back next time for more oversharing.