Today has been tricky. On the one hand, I’m celebrating a month sober. Yay! Go me!
On the other hand, I had to taste 6 different wines at work today, all of which were amazing Cali- reds, which former-Red would have hoovered up in a state of sheer bliss. However, I spat like a true professional, and didn’t even let a trickle of the bastard devil-juice slip down my throat.
To add insult to injury, I was then packed off home with the rest of the bottles in a cardboard box, with which to kick-start my wedding anniversary celebrations tomorrow.. “you can drink them in the hot tub!!” called my colleague after me, as I clanked my way across the carpark.
Bringing me onto point 3. (Or the third hand?? Hmm). Tomorrow is my 5th wedding anniversary. Mr Red and I are heading to a delightful boutique hotel, where traditionally we spend the afternoon getting totally smashed in a hot tub, and then continuing to get even further smashed in the amazing fish restaurant, whilst pretending (badly) to be respectable grown-ups.
How am I supposed to do this sober, in the face of such tradition?? What the chuff will I do in the ruddy hot-tub for 4 hours?
Help! I’m off to look at my sleeping children, and remind myself why the hell I’m doing this.