On the wagon.
Our wedding was everything I had dared to hope and more. So was the honeymoon. Looking back over the photos though, I realise I had a cocktail in nearly every single frame. Exactly a year ago, I was a touch humiliated at my niece's birthday party & a year later it appears not much has changed. Sunday I couldn't drink since I was still hurling over Saturday night's abuses. Monday and Tuesday my stomach wasn't quite feeling back to normal so I didn't suggest we open a bottle of wine over dinner. Let's call this my 4th day on the wagon. This weekend will be tricky.

Yes, I understand that it's a depressive and that all alchoholics look back at their antics with a mixture of self-loathing and self-pity. But it all comes down to this: If I can quit smoking for my husband, perhaps I can quit drinking for me.

I've just read on the news about "pickled walnut" syndrome & I'm increasingly concerned about my shocking memory.