I must be the only person to look and feel worse after giving up alcohol. It's three months now and I feel like a dust bin. Probably due to eating complete rubbish. I did not give up coffee, I somehow managed to increase my consumption of the "good stuff" (only real coffee will do, max strength of course). I digress, this is simply not the plan.
I am waking each morning with a headache akin to very mild hangover. Do not approach me at the 3pm slide into coma levels of energy for the evening of couch surfing. I say surfing but flicking the remote is even too strenuous. I seriously sometimes leave the station on as I am too lazy to reach for remote.
I had wanted to boast to ye lovely people about how amazing my life is now. I had visions of early morning runs, hair like a film starlet. Eating rainbow coloured goodness, and no m and m's don't count.
Darkness in the morning and utter Baltic Burren cold stopped me in my tracks literally. Gone are the morning walks, moving even. Of course I could access the gym at 7am like a very organised person, but as organisation has not yet kicked in, I am finding it as achievable as locating The Holy Grail in my back garden. That is probably more doable considering I married an archaeologist. He probably knows exactly where it is but will not say as he is a self confessed atheist. Probably views it as "the cup" like any other drinking device.
So I will do the whole buying the right 2018 diary. You know the one, the perfect one that will make me organised. I could not figure out that whole bullet journal thing. Looks incredible but I was too lazy and distracted to learn the rules. Good job I wholeheartedly believe that come the stroke of midnight on New Years eve I magically transform into that version of me where anything is possible. Am I that naïve folks? Yes, Yes I am.
