7 days sober. £210 raised for the air ambulance service.

So far it’s been okay. In fact until today it’s basically been fine. I’ve always liked tomato juice with a good kick of tabasco and I’ve developed a deep fondness for cranberry juice, chamomile tea is far more effective at getting me to relax than wine is anyway and it’s not like we’re out all the time so sobriety in front of a movie on the sofa probably enhances my pleasure. I’ve been sleeping well, had plenty of energy and have been dropping weight. I find that aside from all the calories that alcohol itself contains, wine, my favourite tipple, makes me ravenous. So brilliant, my big challenge hasn’t been nearly so challenging. I could almost have conceived keeping this up indefinitely, special occasion aside, and then today happened.

Today has been one of those days. We stayed up a bit later than we meant to watching The Chronicles of Riddick, I then couldn’t get to sleep right away, and so I’m tired. Add to that the awful downturn in the weather and the horrible sinking feeling that this is how it will be all summer long, the fact that Pete is being buggered about by car salesmen again and what feels like a pulled muscle in my stomach and all I want to do is bugger the diet, drain a large bottle of red and eat something that’s horrendously bad for me…And I can’t, at least not the first part.

It’s telling that this is the time when I want to reach for a glass of wine. First port of call in a crisis, medicinal of course. It’s not a social crutch, though that did worry me, I wondered if I would come over all shy having spent the greater part of my life socialising while sozzled, I was the weird kid in school the last time I had to attend a social function without booze in my hand. It’s not altogether the taste, though I do admit the idea of having to drink squash or J20 on a regular basis make me feel physically ill, there are drier and more interesting non-alcoholic beverages to be consumed. It’s comfort, pure and simple, I never reached for the ice-cream during stress, fatigue or emotional upheaval, too sweet, not my style. I reached for the wine.

But not this time. This time I must pull my socks up, make a hot cup of tea to ward off the cold and stop feeling sorry for myself.

Onwards and upwards.

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