I think it’s unfair that on a sober weekend, I bounce out of bed at the crack of dawn, but on a Monday morning, when there is an alarm clock involved, sleep is the drug of choice. I wouldn’t swap it for alcohol, even if it involved an all day free bar, in the company of Richard Burton, Peter Cook, and Oliver Reed, with the ‘Rat Pack’ handing out the drinks! If only it was as easy to see alcohol for the pretender that it is, ALL of the time.
I have had a lot of extremely hungover Monday mornings. It would be stating the obvious to say that this was never a good way to start the week. However, this Monday morning, for the second Monday in a row, I am indebted to myself for looking after me last night, by not letting me drink, even though the persuasive denial crept in at around tea time. We took the dog for a walk instead, and I ignored my internal addict. (I imagine she’s a grubby, bloated, alchy, probably on her way to some dire Sunday pub quiz, an excuse for desperate Sunday drinking, which she’ll loose anyway, because her brain is addled by booze! But I digress..)
Sober Monday morning tiredness though, is gone by the time I get to the kitchen, and by the time the kettle has boiled, I am back to being energised again; ready for the day ahead, (even a Monday), and all that it may throw at me.
Hangover free is freedom!