After a decade of torturing my body it's time for me to give it a rest. I was told the closer I got to 30 the more I'd start caring about my health, and as I approach 28, this is happening.
In the past couple of months I've tried to actively start using my addictive personality for good rather than evil. I swapped my morning latte and afternoon sugar fix with a copper tongue scraper and a sugar-free diet inspired by an Ayurvedic doctor.
The next major vice to throw in is the booze. This is the biggest and the baddest of all my indulgences. I love a wine to mark the middle of the week, a bottle (or two) of red on a Friday night, a Saturday afternoon session in the sun, a weekend bender, shots of tequila with strangers and casual G&Ts.
Yeah, I'm that go-to girl when you're after a good night. I've had a blast, forged some solid friendships and created plenty of (foggy) fond memories - but it's time for me to shake off the tag. I will be reclaiming my weekends, pinching pennies, butting out any social smoking and feeling fresh as a daisy.
I timed my departure from alcohol on the back of a mad engagement party in Hamilton.
It's always a great night out in The Tron so I knew it would be a ripper of a way to see the end of my alcohol-fuelled days for the time being.
I was right. I dusted myself off on Sunday morning, drove back from the Waikato and was ready to sink my teeth into sobriety.
That was nearly two weeks ago. So I've made it through one weekend - a weekend when I was working so wasn't tempted to cut loose. I managed to turn down a glass of pinot noir at a fancy Italian restaurant, and stay away from the over-priced beers at a nail-biting NRL match. That's not a bad way to start.
I'm approaching weekend No. 2, and I'm not going to lie, I'm getting thirsty. My social calendar is typically marked with alcohol-related events. I am trying not to go into total hibernation, but think it's best to start with a couple of quiet weekends rugged up on the couch with a bowl of soup and a rom-com - this shouldn't be too hard as the Auckland winter chill starts to set in.
My flatmate says I'm being boring.
"I don't like sober Nicky," he tells me. "Why can't you just have one glass?".
My reply: Because a glass turns into a bottle, then I'm forgoing dinner plans and dancing till dawn.
So I'm going to treat my temple to a bit of time off - she deserves it after the decade we've had. Six more weeks of sobriety.
That will bring me until the end of June and times nicely with a South American sojourn that's all teed up.
I'll keep you posted on my progress. Heck, join me for the wagon ride if you want.
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