DAY 1
"Hi, I'm Jo, and I'm not an alcoholic," I explain to those wondering why I've chosen to eschew the liquid that I love for a month. It's not a dereliction of duty, nor a display of virtue. Or because I think I have a drinking problem. I simply try to cut out all alcohol once a year, which delivers sufficient dividends to make me consider it a worthwhile sacrifice.
DAY 2
With the excesses of the festive season still being keenly felt, I experience little temptation to stray from teetotalism today. My drinking usually falls just within safe limits, but it's easy to overdo it and my body needs a break. A month off drink is worthless if it's followed by a return to bad ways, but I reflect that it always makes me recalibrate my drinking and return to the two dry days a week recommended by doctors.
DAY 4
It's the weekend, where being a non-drinker can make social gatherings seem onerous. However, surrounded by good friends and fine conversation, being stone-cold sober feels fine. I also find it makes me far quicker and slicker at extricating myself from bores or bothersome folk.
DAY 6
I start my first week back at work with a gargantuan tasting of pinot gris. After 50 wines ranging from the dull to delicious, I find I'm craving a cuppa.
DAY 8
"A meal without wine is like a day without sunshine," claimed the great epicure Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, and it's at dinner time that I miss wine the most - especially as my partner has opted not to join me on my month-long quest. "Binge drinking is bad but food and wine is sublime," he waxes lyrically over a dish of lemongrass chicken and glass of viognier that I'm eyeing enviously.