My name is Will and I'm a social alcoholic. It's been 30 hours and 20 minutes since my last drink.
Feel broken. I've just had the worst night's sleep ever and now have to go to work. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Tea-totallers are supposed to be...chipper. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and full of bonhomie, as if they have just returned from a weekend of hill-walking and prayer circles in the Peak District.
Anyone over the age of 25 who has had a heavy weekend will know what I mean when I say I had "The Fear" last night. Normally a Sunday night phenomenon, there are many names for it - the heebie-jeebies, the dread, the back-to-school blues - but the sinking feeling is universal. Some scientists believe the feeling can be triggered by the Antiques Roadshow theme tune, and memories of unfinished school homework assignments.
The Fear is the worst part of a hangover. Headaches and dry mouths can be cured with paracetemol and tea, but The Fear is invincible and this one was a doozie. It was like it knew it could not visit me for another 12 months so wanted to go out with a bang.
I won't miss it, and currently feel like I never want to drink another drop of alcohol for the next ten years, never mind one.
I know from experience that such feelings of temperance generally last 24 to 36 hours, when memory of The Fear subsides and sweet sweet Booze beckons.
Well, not this time, Booze, you painted Jezebel!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment