Entry for 13th November, 2007

Day 2 of my self-imposed alcohol ban. It is a Friday too, so I am feeling particularly self-righteous right now, as I sup my decaffeinated coffee. I intend to get up at 7am tomorrow and telephone all of my friends who are not temporary teetotallers like me. I will sing them a merry tune and tell them how the drink is wasting their lives. I will offer to come to their houses and lecture them on the joys of a healthy lifestyle. I may even start a soup kitchen so that I can dole out nutritious broth to my friends as they hit Skid Row over the next 30 days.
It is quite sobering to reflect that the vast majority of Saturday and Sunday mornings over the past 23 years (I know, I know – it’s difficult to believe I am that old) have been spent in a slight fug owing to hangovers, or at least the after-effects of a few beers the night before. I imagine I could have completed three open university courses and learned how to play the lute during all the time that I have wasted watching Soccer AM and forcing down paracetamol.
On the other hand, perhaps the sauce is what has fuelled my creative spirit over the years. Without recourse to the bottle maybe I would not have written the first four pages of a novel over the past six years and I would not have been the proud author of 42 sketches rejected by the BBC for the Karen Dunbar Show.