A friend at work used to give up alcohol for the whole of January. He was hell to be with, and tipped the first pint of February down with audible relish. I remember him once saying "Welcome me back to the human race" as he did so. And science states that so-called detox is a myth: abrupt changes to your body's expectations, as cultivated over eleven months, do more harm than good. At least the science I read does.
And there are more pressing reasons to abstain from self-imposed abstention. They come under the collective heading 'Christmas presents'. Here are a couple:
And of course:
OK, not strictly humbugs; but there must be a hundred of them in there (it doesn't say on the packet), to be consumed by 3 April, when the best-before date starts to poison me.
And I haven't even started on the socks and the handkerchiefs.