It is 2016. I am on a sober experiment, maybe 14 days in and it is the 4th of July. We are out of town spontaneously visiting friends. One of them works in hospitality and got us a beautiful hotel room in a nearly sold out city. When we check in there’s chilled champagne for us, a sweet note, and milk & cookies for the kids. It was such a sweet surprise! We felt VIPs. I have never had this kind of service upon arrival. I am really touched, but I don’t touch the champagne. I’m doing a sober experiment afterall.

We have lunch at a famous Wisconsin staple. I get the biggest, baddest, extra spicy, Virgin Bloody Mary with all the fixin’s on a skewer poking out. Celery, pickle, bacon, shrimp. I took a picture for Facebook. Sober. Easy peasy. I am not missing out on anything. I see everyone with their beers around me, but I am ok. 

We have a few sets of friends that live in the same town and we want to introduce them to each other. We met at the...

The details are very foggy, but I have a drunken Easter story. 

For the life of me, I can’t think about why I would have been without plans or my family on Easter, but one year it happened. Maybe I chose it? I have no idea. I really can’t remember. My whole life at that time was a bit of a fog.  

What I do know is that I was grieving the loss of my good friend, who was diagnosed with cancer and passed away two months later, leaving his wife and 5 kids. My other friend, his wife, was now a widow. She asked me to do his eulogy. She said I was the only one that could speak her words. My heart and hers were completely broken. I stayed very close to her during this time. I wanted to be a real support person to her. 

We were both drinking a lot, which wasn’t necessarily new to us, but we had new meaning to do it with our freshly shattered hearts. I thought being in the depths of despair alongside her was the best support I could...

I thought St. Patrick’s Day was my favorite holiday. 

I look good in green. I like corned beef. I was raised on beer.

One look at me and you would swear I was a jolly Irish soul. 

I am 5 years sober. 

After decades of drunken shenanigans involving day drinking and green beer, it turns out St. Patrick’s Day is not my favorite holiday. It never was. It was just an excuse to drink.

As a drinker, the rest of this story might sound sad to you. If you are craving an excuse to crowd into a dark pub during the day and fight a rowdy crowd for a cheap green beer, this will not be the happy ending you are seeking. 

For me, today is Friday. I had a full day off yesterday to catch up on Spring Cleaning. It felt so good to get away from my computer and run errands, clean out drawers, and tidy up my space. Tis the season for cleaning! I have professional window washers coming today for the first time ever! What a treat! I am thrilled....

I was talking with a client last week and she mentioned the weekend might be hard. 

Why? 

Because it’s Labor Day, a three day holiday weekend, and the end of summer.

It hit me that I hadn’t even thought about that. 

I did have a trip out of town for my Aunt’s Funeral services at the end of the week, prior to the weekend's start. 

I was performing the eulogy, so I was heavily distracted, to say the least. 

My oldest daughter had a volleyball tournament,

so we had no plans for a for a last hurrah. 

It actually felt like a regular weekend, with an extra day added in.

Less plan, and few obligations.

No forced family fun, which admittedly I shove in sometimes.

(don't we all?)

More time and space.

It was just what I needed, considering the emotional weekend I had endured. 

I started the summer in an opposite way...with a BANG! on Memorial Day.

We enjoyed a weekend at a lake house,...

There was a moment this weekend where I picked up a glass of whiskey,

so I could wash the table underneath so we could play cards after dinner. 

I put my nose in and smelled it.

It smelled so good!!! 

It gave me a warm, boozy, fuzzy feeling just to sniff it.

I knew I would love the burn going down my throat. 

Whiskey wasn’t my drink of choice, but I always did like it. 

Did I want a sip of whiskey? 

Maybe?

Did I want that happy burn and fuzzy buzz to come over me? 

Yes, I definitely did.

I know now what that would mean for me.

Alcohol is a big head game.

I am so glad to not be playing anymore. 

Ultimately, I don’t want what alcohol brings. 

For me, alcohol brings disappointment, dependence/addiction, hangovers, and shame.

It hijacks my brain into a one track mind with only one thought - drink now. 

It clouds everything that is beautiful and free about me. 

It makes me anxious, and depressed. 

It takes...

My first sober Cinco de Mayo was something to anticipate and get through.

Something to white knuckle and endure or tolerate.

Cince de Mayo was another milestone drinking holiday that I was about to do sober for the first time.

Similar to St. Patrick’s Day.

I always drank on these occasions. 

Sometimes I drank with certain people or ate certain foods. 

How could I possibly get through this sober?

I was twitchy.

I probably started anticipating Cinco de Mayo on Cinco de April, if you know what I mean.

I was so full of nerves, fear and anticipation of everything.

I lived like a live wire.

A masseuse literally told me that once, and he was right. 

On my first sober holidays, I tried to do all my same activities, just sans alcohol.

It wasn’t all that fun, tbh.

My alcohol free life has changed over the years.

This was my biggest fear in getting sober. 

That everything would change. 

I didn’t want anything...