Booze Glorious Booze

I love the stuff but I'd like not to love it so much. It must be in my genes. I recently finished Alex James' autobiography and he was a right pisshead in his twenties, but when he hit his thirties he became a tee-totaller. How the flip did he manage it? I know he was a terrible drunk, which you see- I'm not, I'm a rather charming one. Monsieur James reckons once he did give up the bottle he got so much more done which is the main reason I want to quit the dopamine fixes. I turned 30 two months ago and have drunk more since then than I had planned. Of course the plan was to quit completely, like I suddenly did after 10 years of inhaling dirty Benson and Hedges, but I can't seem to do it. They do say mothers are the worst. Alcohol is the complete antidote to a day with children. Sadie goes to bed- I crack open the Cabernet Sauvignon. Sadie goes to bed - I crack open the Shiraz. Sadie goes to bed - I crack open the Merlot. And so it goes. Trouble is my man isn't even much of a drinker so I end up necking about 7/8ths of the bottle. Sad really. I suppose I'm what health experts refer to as a ' female binge drinker'. If I was going out every night I probably wouldn't notice it, but as we're now parents and we're staying in it seems a lot more tragic somehow. Especially if you combine the heavy wine drinking with late night tv. It leaves one feeling rather empty and depressed.
I'm now sitting here at 9.30am necking cup after cup of nettle tea to ease the catholic guilt.

10.40am: I really shouldn't laugh but I can't believe a pot of burning chillies caused a terror alert. And the Thai man who runs the restaurant is quoted as saying "I'm confused". Poor bloke.

Soundtrack: Maximo Park - Our Velocity