Day 74, and it struck me, looking fleetingly in the mirror (past the age of 40 it doesn't do to linger at mirrors!) this morning that something had changed.
And it's my hair.
There are many benefits I expected to accrue when I quit drinking - like weight loss, better sleep, more energy, and so on, but bouncy, springy, look at me hair was not one of them.
My hair has gone all exuberant, confident to the point of pushy, American. It's so big that it deserves its own post code (translation: zip code).
I googled 'sober hair.' It transpires that I'm not imagining it. Hair, like your skin, suffers from dehydration when you drink, and goes all dry and brittle and split endy. Plus, alcohol depletes your iron levels which makes your hair fall out.
My older friends tell me that the menopause is disastrous for hair, so I see this as my hair's last Hurrah! Enjoy, you lovely little follicles. It's your chance to shine.
This hair thing is very good timing, because tonight I have an ordeal.
My old Oxford College is holding a drinks do at The House of Lords (for those of you across the pond, the House of Lords institution and building are older than America).
I still remember when I got the letter containing the results of my Oxford application and interview. I was with my friend Philippa. I poured us both a vodka and orange for courage, despite the fact that it was only 11am (that didn't auger well). When I read the words 'we are pleased to be able to offer you....' it was the proudest day of my life.
So tonight I'll look around the room at all of us - supposedly some of the brightest and most promising of our generation.
Many of my cohort are now government ministers, top lawyers, brain surgeons, newsreaders, best selling novelists and rich as Croesus financiers.
And what am I? An ex boozy housewife. All that promise left pickling at the bottom of a bottle of Chablis.
Not for the first time, I will wonder why I didn't carry on the career (which I was very good at) and leave a highly paid nanny (with far more experience and expertise in childcare than me) to bring up #1, #2 and #3.
I've not done a drinks party yet. I've done sober dinners, I've done a sober ball, I've done a sober holiday, but not a drinks party. What are they for if not to drink? The clue, as my kids would say, is in the name.
And I know from pregnant days that they are useless at providing non alcoholic drinks at these things. Sticky, warm orange juice or elderflower cordial. Drinks for children and grannies. No virgin mojitos for the sophisticated AF lady, oh no.
So, I have decided to treat my new, perky hair to a professional blow dry (translation: blow out). Cost: 2 bottles of wine equivalent - what I would have drunk tonight in the old days.
I might be standing, quivering in the doorway, but my hair will be way ahead of me, propping up the bar and flirting with the waiter.
Wish me luck!