By: Travis Naughton
Mondays aren’t usually what most folks would consider to be celebration-worthy occasions. Were it not for Monday Night Football, the first day of the workweek would have almost no redeeming value whatsoever. But Monday, November 6, was pretty special for me in particular. Why? Because it marked 2,500 consecutive days of living without alcohol.
On December 31, 2016, I drank gin martinis with my dear friend John for twelve straight hours as we rang in the new year together. Weeks prior, I had selected that night to be my “last hurrah” with booze, although John had no idea at the time that he would be the last person to share a drink with me. I had told no one about my plan, not even my wife, who ironically had just given me a subscription to a beer-of-the-month club on Christmas morning as well as a VIP tour of a local microbrewery. (Hot tip: When the only gift ideas your life partner can think of involve alcohol, you might have a problem.)
Read full article in this week’s Journal…
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