13 Lessons I Learned From Not Drinking For A Month

Okay, fine. It was 23 days technically, but it damn near felt like an eternity. Let me start by saying I’m not an alcoholic. I know people think it’s hip to playfully hint at alcoholism when referring to the way they drink, but that’s not me. I only failed the month due to a birthday.

I do, however, drink a lot. I work in an open office with both a keg and a fully-stocked bar. On top of that, I’m paid to drink and review whiskey so my desk is constantly loaded with bottles.

This whole thing came about after a particularly crippling hangover. I blame it on my recent condemnation of some highly-effective hangover pills I was sent—which, in retrospect, may have been a terrible idea. Based on the condition of my brain and my stomach, I decided to spend a month sober. It was a lot harder than I ever could have imagined and now I love drinking more than ever. This is what I learned.

When the novelty of a clear head and a five o’clock can of non-alcoholic seltzer wore off and the reality of my actions set in, I found myself feeling incredibly left out—as if everyone was at a party without me. I swear this damn office hosted a happy hour every single day after I decided to quit drinking. Okay, maybe giving up alcohol for a month is a far cry from heroin withdrawal, but it wasn't fun.

One of the biggest problems I had was a persistent phantom chill in my left hand. I simply didn’t know what to do with my hands when my friends were drinking. Honestly, I felt the need to start smoking again. This damn fashion trend of tight pants makes it very hard to put them in your pockets.

I drank so much water when I cut myself off from booze. Everywhere I went, glasses of water or cans of Diet Coke found their way into my sweaty palms. Because I ended up overcompensating, the amount of liquid that entered my body couldn’t have been less than a quart an hour. I couldn’t stop peeing.

I made it a point to continue accompanying my friends to bars and finally started listening to the actual conversations around me. Conversations I would have been a part of before this hellish time. Conversations that spurred scores of inside jokes, hilarious puns, and the kinds of high whistles only dogs can hear. I felt totally out of touch and awkward, like a dad driving his kid’s friends to the mall.

I figured this would happen, but was genuinely shocked when I found myself with a surplus of cash at the end of the month. It was as if Planet Earth paid me $100 to stop having fun for a few weeks.

I mean, it definitely wasn’t a coincidence that my girlfriend and I got along together better during my month of not drinking. Turns out there are better ways to solve arguments than by yelling loudly into a phone.

This one is complicated and a little depressing, but here we go: I used to live close to work, so I hardly ever took the subway home. Whenever I did, it would be on the weekend on the way to and from a bar. It dawned upon me, as I rode the F train at midnight, that I hadn’t been on a subway sober in over two years. It was...fine.

It’s really hard to do, but a necessary evil if you really want to step back and examine your life with a set of clear eyeballs. For the record, I’ve never hunted a man, only read that gripping story by Richard Connell in 9th grade english class. Here is the full text. It’s still amazing.

The beer belly is a real problem and it’s actually pretty easy to get rid of. I lost four pounds during the month. Of course, I gained them right back after the month was over, but at least I knew I could do it.

I remember one night at a bar where I couldn’t stop myself from staring longingly at the bottles behind the bartender. Through my glassy-eyed gaze, I managed to order two Diet Cokes and the guy asked me if I wanted any “adult drinks.” I laughed and muttered “ass-hat” under my breath—well, I wanted to. Bartenders have really good hearing.

For a month I saw nothing but ice-cold bottles of beer, flowing rivers of wine, and glorious shots. It was like the end of Return of The Jedi when Luke sees the ghosts of Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Anakin Skywalker. I missed alcohol like I missed a significant other. I kept seeing mirages of champagne like Captain Haddock in the desert. But even if I could drink them, I would be cheating myself.

Silly me for planning this ridiculous stunt 23 days before my birthday. I realized my grave mistake two weeks in and, yada yada yada, that’s why I couldn’t last a full month. If anyone asks, I was forced with a funnel.

I remember my first celebratory drinks on my birthday. Bud diesel, Dos Equis, Miller High Life, PBR. So good. I know what you’re thinking you BeerAdvocate snob—those beers are mild, like seltzer water. But you know what? You’re wrong. DEAD WRONG. I drank seltzer for a month—okay, fine, 23 days—and they are nothing like seltzer. They are beautiful and delicious and the pinnacle of human achievement.

Jeremy Glass has won Supercompressor's Employee of The Year trophy two years in a row now, which is so rad.