I've started a rock climbing course and, because of the added physical exertion, I recently stopped enjoying my nightly tipple in the interests of improving my overall health, and also not having my fellow climbers pass out and fall off the wall as a result of the alcohol fumes wafting from my sweat glands...
But it seems that the universe is conspiring to make me reach for the pinot noir.
Why else would a client stop by my office for an impromptu 5 hour meeting, during which we autopsied 50 page document which, of course, has to be finalised and ready to print today? Why else would said client not have looked at this document, which has been safely nestled in the confines of her inbox for a month, until this very moment? Why else would she have waited until I was at the door, ready to leave for a lazy lunch of jam and cheese sarnies in the sun before making her unannounced presence? Why?
It's days like this, days when the world drives you half mad with hunger, exhaustion and violent levels of boredom that the soft, always relaxing, always comforting embrace of my friends on the wine rack call to me.
I don't know if I'll ever be a successful teetotaller... then again, teetotal is a very silly word.
P.S.
I realise that this post probably makes me sound a little like an alcoholic. I'm not. Just European.



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