Going on the Piste - Day 58

 

Dry January, when you are on an alcohol free mission, is a bloody doddle.  No one has any money to go out, hibernation is a post-holiday must for the majority and this includes the Sun which barely can be arsed making an appearance for more than five hours a day.

Its dark at 4pm, bed by 7pm watch a bit of Vera, sleep by 9pm, bored but Sober.  It’s not really that difficult.

 

February………. well that’s a completely different fuck-a-dory story. 

 

All the January 'dryer outerers',  are now knee deep in discount drinks and clearly relishing in the reverse January mentality, becoming moister than a fucking oyster every hour.

 

February is hardcore.  Valentines Chocolates and Bottles of Bubbly adorn the TV, the Shops and the Soaps – Sally Webster I must add, clearly has a drink problem and can be seen glugging from an array of shit, chipped wine glasses every episode, whist whining at Tim about his health....... anyway I digress back to February…….Every Tom, Dickhead and Harry are swiping up the buy one get one boozefest bubbles, as Supermarkets compete in a Cava Contest where by the end you can nail yourself a case of 6 for the price of a bag for life!!

 

‘I know what will help you', Rob states……….

 

I throw him a look intended to penetrate his brain and screams, A date with Tom Hardy, a super-fast metabolism, a butler, a chef and an unlimited Amex card would be gratefully appreciated.

 

'Lets go on a last minute ski holiday'!

 

Now I know all too well, how our Ski holidays usually pan out, Irene is a fond fan of mainlining gin on the Plane and this continues to the Mountains where she necks copious amounts of booze (all for the good cause of improving her slalom techniques on the slopes) and consumes billions of ‘soak up the Ale’, calories blown in cheese and chocolate fondues!!! She really isn’t fussy……….soooooooooo I find this suggestion ‘of help’ from Rob about as much use as a Sandpaper tampon.

 

Looking at this giddy bloody Eddie the Eagle standing in front of me, grinning away, like he has just solved his first Wordle, I remind myself, I would look shit in Prison stripes, I do actually love him to bits, therefore need to stop being a boring bitch and start to go with the unplugged sandpaper tampon flow.

 

I am in………..lets do this – Queue One very expensive Christian Dior shopping spree later and I well and truly have all the gear and no fucking idea how I am going to survive this.

 

One week later its 5am and the car arrives to pick us up for Liverpool Airport.

 

We check in at the desk where one seriously pissed off female Cabin Crew Member whose face has clearly never experienced joy, demands an extra £100 for excess baggage.  She doesn’t crack a smile when I tell her not to worry about the charge as I will be sending Rob (excess baggage) home.  Miserable cow, no sense of humour and clearly not a Morning person. Anyway I cough up the charge, Rob moans about my fucking wardrobe (nothing new there) and we progress up the escalators.  

 

Now like Train stations I have already touched on, without my staple booze head on, there is fuck all to do at the Airport.  Rob doesn’t waste anytime in Duty Free, he starts piling up his basket like he is on a looting/supermarket sweep mission and heads to the bar muttering some shit about me driving him to drink!  I walk around the duty free six times, hoping each time that they restock new products and I can waste a little more time, spraying, squirting and ruining the Ozone, whilst secretly hoping I have missed a random goody filled wing of Duty free stuffed with ginormous Toblerone’s all calling my name.  I discover nothing so instead head to meet him at the bar.

 

Much to my delight the next few hours pass in a new found love of Alcohol Free Beer. I actually feel, bottle in hand like a drinker again, its quite a revelation. I don’t feel quite as foreign as I do in a Bar clutching a diet coke, I am relaxed, enjoying myself and not wanting to kill anyone for drinking the real deal in close proximity when I can’t.  I feel quite euphoric and high on life.  Rob has left me alone at the bar to answer the call of nature aka fucked off to the loo to birth an Otter. When he returns, I have enjoyed two more birthdays and grown an inch in height LOL!  All is well.

 

The holiday is fab, the Hotel is Wonderful,  complete with the poshest water menu I have ever seen…… fizzy water, still water, oxygen infused water, tap water, Mountain water the only thing fucking missing is rain water!!!  I utterly love the sheer over the top indulgence of it all. 

 

Sober there is so much to do, so many early and late hours in the days, they are filled with immense laughter,  so much to enjoy and with my new found memory so much to remember.

Roll on Sober life, it may be tough at times, it may be different,  but my God,  you have me hooked!