As I mentioned recently, I got the go-ahead to start drinking again after several years off. The process of recovering from ME also resulted – rather fabulously – in a full recovery from the problems that had caused me to give up sugar and alcohol a few years ago. You can imagine my joy. Life without cake is really quite pointless.
Anyway, my body is doing fine with sugar but it’s not so keen on booze. In fact, it hates it. It makes me feel sick and wibbly and my hangover the next day – even after a mere glass – is foul.
So, even though I’m medically ok to drink, I’ve given up again.
I had a day of mourning but that was it. I’m happy with my choice.
Last night The Man and I wandered into a pub. He asked for some hoppy craft beer thing and I asked for a cup of mint tea. I waited for the barman to make a face, or a rude comment, or say that they don’t serve hot drinks at night (ie they can’t be arsed putting the kettle on) but instead he smiled and went straight off to make it without another word.
A small thing, but a nice thing. It made my evening.
Right: I’m off to play with some horses. For work. I love my job!
(Re the scotch egg. No particular reason for that. Other than that they are REAL TASTY)