Day 1 - How the hell did I get here?

I, my friend am an open book. It is usually pretty easy to tell how I am feeling, for instance if my hands are round your throat I am usually a tad pissed off, however this Christmas cameand went in a haze of calm aided by the trusted Sleepeeez tablets, a gift from the Boots Insomnia Gods and the copious amounts of Champagne, Chablis, Pino Grigio, Malbec and Merlot required to wash the fore mentioned tablets down and cope with the Mothership of Intergenerational Mayhem and Madness that was unfolding around me.

Needless to say I woke on Boxing day with the Hangover of all Hangovers. 'FUCK ME' I exclaimed to Rob, not in a demanding amorous way of course more a 'Who did this to me?' inquisitive kind of way.

'Same old, Same old, Boozy Suzy morphed into Irene, kind of night' he replied in a rather bored, dulcet tone, accompanied with that, we've been here a million times before, look on his face.

 

Now Irene is my alter ego, she is the Queen wine witch bitch, she is sneaky, she is devilish, she is witty, she is daring and she can out drink the hardiest of sailor......... but enough about her (for now), we will deal with her later, for now it’s back to the pressing problem at hand...........Boxing Day aptly named it seems as my head feels like I have done ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

 

Scrambling for my phone and frantically opening the fabulous fitbit app, designed for fellow party piss heads like me to work out what time their drunken carcasses actually hit the pillow, I realise I have had four hours sleep. What the hell were we doing until 5am I demand to know? There it is again, that smug, knowing look, plastered across Robs face. 'FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, don't tell me.

Now Irene has developed this amazing superpower, her own bespoke canny copping mechanism that keeps me repeat offending - Absolute Memory Loss. Now unlike any other superpower, AML puts you completely at the mercy of the fellow partygoers and their kindness or unkindness to spill the beans on your outrageous under the influence anticsl

 

RIGHT THATS IT, I declare to the bathroom door as Robs continuing with his daily activities, no interest in a word I say, I AM GIVING UP THE BOOZE. The door suddenly swings open, 'THANK CHRIST HE SAYS FOR ALL OUR SAKES AND I WILL BELIEVE IT, WHEN I SEE IT'.

 

I was about to retaliate when I think back to the past few years of attempted and failed dry January's. I actually thought I had done it in 2020 but it turns out I managed ten days. In a rather biblical 'on the eleventh day......I got well and truly shitfaced and thanks to Irene's AML superpowers by the end of the Month I had completely forgotten breaking it.

 

Well here goes, I have a lot of motherfuckers (ROB) to prove wrong and in true Charlies Angels style, MISSION ACCEPTED. No self destruct necessary, I did that last night......allegedly...........!!!!