In September I had decided that I would not drink alcohol in October. I wanted to be sure that I wasn't slowly running into genetics from one of my great-grandfathers. I stopped not on 1 October, nor even on 30 September but a couple days before - no last minute cheats, carryover, etc. It started well enough, though I caught myself thinking "I could use a drink" a time or two, more often it was a food pairing thing. A salad might suggest a little sherry, pizza brought beer to mind - that sort of thing.
I didn't make it. But drinking my uncle's wine to toast my father, well, that was not the time or place to go teetotaler, even if it was temporary. That happened twice. On the 5th and 6th or the 6th and 7th. It doesn't matter. After that, the dry spell resumed. From various reasons, it was a really good month to have decided not to drink anything. Let's just say that October could be summed up as a month of Mondays. The "I could use a drink" line of reasoning might have been invoked more often than would have been healthy.
It's now November, but I didn't really make it through October (I chose a month with 31 days, too. I saw someone once pick February for something like this and sure it's just a couple days, but it still felt like a cheat to me.) So despite having some time off, I won't be having a beer or a glass of wine or whatever with supper tonight. I can wait. The 9th would certainly be the 31-day mark from the last drink, but I'll be waiting until the 11th. And one will be plenty, I expect.