Well I made it through the first day of alcohol abstinence, as attested by the picture of my little homemade ‘chart’ (which surely would stand as supporting evidence in any court of law).
I like my chart. It feels like a being a child in December using an advent calendar to count down the days to Christmas. Admittedly, a really grim little advent calendar made out of cheap lined notepaper and poorly scrawled biro which counts its way down to the next hit of intoxicating poison, but an advent calendar nonetheless. I am not saying I intend to market it or anything. Although if you would like to buy one off me, I am willing to make you one if you send me a postal order and an S.A.E. (that’s a ‘stamped addressed envelope’ to those who didn’t ever join the Beano fan-club or watch Saturday morning television in the 1980’s)
Maybe excitedly counting down the days to my next alcoholic beverage is not really encouraging the best spirit for this exercise. It’s also quite telling that year upon year, using a real advent calendar, I could patiently manage the anticipation of the 25 days till Xmas as a child (when a month seemed much longer because you’d had a comparatively smaller percentage of lifespan), yet I am only targeting a feeble 21 days till my next glug. But even so, it’s nice to monitor progress; it gives a sense of achievement. I am also merely an hour away from adding my next cross too! Unless I suddenly snap, and crack open the taunting bottle of wine in the cupboard downstairs, and glutinously pouring it all over my face, whilst my desperate tongue thrashes about, lapping the liquor in some breathless, near-sexual ecstasy. But that would be a spectacularly sad and unlikely sight, considering I never usually even drink on a Monday anyway.
The hardest part of my abstinence will be getting through a planned trip I have at Shell Island next weekend. I will be on holiday at a place which is famed for being rather desolate and having absolutely nothing to do; accompanied by people who will be filling their abyss of unobligated time with vast quantities of alcohol. That’ll be when the real challenge kicks in.
Maybe excitedly counting down the days to my next alcoholic beverage is not really encouraging the best spirit for this exercise. It’s also quite telling that year upon year, using a real advent calendar, I could patiently manage the anticipation of the 25 days till Xmas as a child (when a month seemed much longer because you’d had a comparatively smaller percentage of lifespan), yet I am only targeting a feeble 21 days till my next glug. But even so, it’s nice to monitor progress; it gives a sense of achievement. I am also merely an hour away from adding my next cross too! Unless I suddenly snap, and crack open the taunting bottle of wine in the cupboard downstairs, and glutinously pouring it all over my face, whilst my desperate tongue thrashes about, lapping the liquor in some breathless, near-sexual ecstasy. But that would be a spectacularly sad and unlikely sight, considering I never usually even drink on a Monday anyway.
The hardest part of my abstinence will be getting through a planned trip I have at Shell Island next weekend. I will be on holiday at a place which is famed for being rather desolate and having absolutely nothing to do; accompanied by people who will be filling their abyss of unobligated time with vast quantities of alcohol. That’ll be when the real challenge kicks in.
Incidentally, I don't blame you if you boycott reading this for the next 21 days. If I succeed, no doubt the entries will be going all dull and Cliff Richard all over yo ass. Otherwise, the entries will resemble the dullest Charles Bukowski novel never to be written. Either way, it's a grim prospect.
