So, Boyfriend and friends and I were chatting the other day (beside the pool, watching the braai do its thing, you know how we roll) and apparently the general consensus of stable people the world over is that if you can give up drinking for two weeks without too much hassle, you're not an alcoholic.
This pronouncement was followed by a bit of uncomfortable shifting around and shuffling of feet.
I mean, while I'm sure there have been at least a couple fortnights in my life that I've gone without drinking without even realising it, if asked to do it, starting right now, I wonder how successful I'd be.
Actually I don't wonder. I know.
A few weeks ago – I think it was the week of the flu actually, because that followed a month of solid eating and drinking, usually followed by more drinking and, then, some more drinking – I thought, Right, your liver has now got what was coming to it and it is therefore time to turn the other cheek. Maybe a couple weeks of no drinking...
Eh! – went my naughty half – but there's Sarah's bachelorette on Friday and then that house party and then that braai in Camps Bay...
Two alcohol-free weeks turned into only four days, and that was mostly because I was in bed hacking up a lung.
Bad form Jade. Maybe I should try again?
Then again, as Boyfriend said, 'Really, why try? Then you might have to admit you're an alcoholic...'
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