Dry January

Every January, my hot retired fighter pilot husband and I conduct an experiment. For thirty-one days, we eliminate alcohol, not because we have a problem, but because we want to make sure we haven’t developed one.

The rest of the year, alcohol is woven seamlessly into our lives. We open a bottle of red with dinner if we’ve made Italian. We order beer at Buffalo Wild Wings. When friends come over, I craft signature cocktails to pair with any pre-dinner amuse-bouche. Our neighbors know we keep a well-stocked bar and can host a cocktail party at a moment's notice.

We enjoy this life. But enjoyment can slide into habit, and habit into blindness.

So each January, we press pause and ask questions: Are we sleeping better? Thinking more clearly? Do meals still feel celebratory with flavored water instead of wine? Does Underdog seem more annoying without the mellowing effect of an Old Fashioned?

This year, twenty-one days in, the answers are illuminating. I've noticed I fall asleep faster but wake up less easily. My husband reports that his morning workouts feel easier. Our dinners? Still delicious, though I admit I miss the ritual of choosing the right alcoholic pairing for the meal.

The point isn't deprivation. It's attention.

As a mystery writer, I spend my days constructing puzzles where the smallest overlooked detail becomes crucial. The same principle applies to life. What habits have become so routine you no longer question them? Which relationships, routines, or assumptions deserve the same scrutiny we're giving our wine rack this month?

Come February 1st, we'll likely return to our normal patterns. But we'll do so consciously, having confirmed that alcohol enhances our lives rather than numbing them. That's worth thirty-one days of investigation.