Episode 84. In which I drink my last beer.

I used to drink quite a lot, when I was at university.  Probably no more than most people drink at university, and certainly less than some people I knew, but a lot compared to a normal non-student.  I got horrifically drunk one night when I was 21 and the “never again” moment stuck.  I didn’t drink alcohol for several years after that.  I’m not counting however much I took on thanks to some ‘friends’ that didn’t approve and spiked my fruit juices whenever it was their round.  I do know, however, that I thought for a while I had something seriously wrong with me.  Imagine feeling tipsy when you know for a fact you’ve not touched a drop of booze in months.  It was a shitty trick to pull, and if you think otherwise, you’re a moron.

I slowly started drinking alcohol again when I was about 25, a bit at a time, just very rarely I’d have a pint, or a G&T, but in very small quantities, because firstly I really can’t handle hangovers At All, and secondly I get my hangovers early these days, and if I have more than 2 drinks, the headache kicks in within the hour.  It’s been a very long time since I went to bed drunk, I’m more inclined to get my booze in early so that I’ve sobered up before I even think about going home.

More recently, it’s getting to be a habit.  I don’t know why because I don’t drink to relax or to forget or any of that nonsense, but one bottle of beer with dinner is very pleasant these days, it just tastes good, so I’ve been having one several times a week.

The heading of tonight’s blog is true.  As I write, I am drinking my last beer.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not giving up again.

There’s no more in the fridge.  I need to restock.

Diabetic moment of the day

I cheated.  I had a muffin for breakfast.  And it was good.


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