As The new decade approaches I’m feeling buzzed. I’m not desperately downing all the Beaujolais I can source in the run up to ‘Day 0’ (01/01/20) because like a relationship gone stale, quite frankly I’m sick of being anywhere near it.
I’ve ‘moderated’ this Christmas to ease myself into cold turkey on the 1st. I’ve willingly been designated driver, had more coffee than I care to admit and been completely void of personality at 7pm most evenings.
I (of course) stumbled at the last hurdle, and got off my face on Boxing Day. Like pity sex with a soon-to-be-ex, it was satisfiying at the time, but when I woke I wanted to gouge my own eyeballs out. Mainly with the guilt and shame of knowing this was something terribly bad for me but that I was doing it anyway. Oh yeah and hangovers are just fucking awful in every way these days.
It took the most miniscule insinuation that I might be boring, and a glass turned into a bottle… Or 2. There in lies the problem and my Achilles heal. I’m scared that I can’t do this, that I’ll lose friends, that I AM ACTUALLY boring. Mostly I’m scared that I’m weak and the grip this thing has on me is far more than I imagined. But I’m finally willing to find out because I don’t want to be weak anymore.
So goodbye wine, hello my dry london life……..but maybe a few for NYE first….