Well its been 38 days since I last had a
drink and apart from the daily suicidal
feelings I feel great. Id like to say that it has
been a great experience but I would be lying.
It has been tough. I used to soak up Guiness
like a sponge.
Its not only the alcohol that one gives up but
almost a whole culture. Standing in the corner
of the Cannon drinking coffee while the " Firm "
are all getting rat-arsed is a leprous feeling. Even
the rather smug comfort of knowing that they are
poisoning themselves , diminishes after your sixth
cup of coffee. I got so hyper the other week that
the bald headed fat bloke who laughingly calls
himself the landlord , insisted I drink water to
compensate the effects of the caffeine.
The mad repetitive conversations that the piss
heads have no longer interest me . To watch the
Mulatto kid , half Barbadian half scots ( loves to
Calypso but only when hes flush ) , collapse into
guffaws at the slightest provocation, makes him
less of a sage in my clear eyes.
But having spent a lifetime being a barfly , I
do honestly feel that I should vacate the front line
stool to a younger bar maid puller. That, alas, is a
mature recognition of whats what , and why ....and
why not ?
I shall be mooching down to the day centre soon
for a cup of rosie and a game of draughts......
Retirement cant come soon enough for me !
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