Entry for 24th November, 2007

As a reward for my piano moving exploits, my Significant Other has arranged a babysitter for this weekend, so that we can go out for a meal together. I fear that it may be to talk about moving the furniture around a bit more (she has a mad glint in her eye) but I will risk it.
A night out with the Mrs is rare indeed nowadays. Windows of opportunity are rare – the chances of us both having free diaries on an evening when a babysitter are more remote than a solar eclipse. We have taken to consulting astrologers about auspicious dates for evenings out. The Ides of March are currently looking promising apparently.
So we are grasping the nettle and making off for the nearest Italian restaurant. I, of course, shall be sober for such is my vow for the rest of January (Burns night excluded) and I shall take the car. My Significant Other will be treated to clearheaded conversation. She may not recognise me at the end of the evening, given that I shall be vertical and will not be drooling on my T shirt whilst talking bollocks about the magic of the theatre. It is easy to see how she fell for me. But I am worried that she will not love the sober me. Would Kate Moss love Pete Doherty if he was a teetotal merchant banker from Slough? I rather doubt it.
I don’t care though, for this is the month when I shall soberly soar amongst the stars, whilst looking condescendingly down at the gutter.’