Sobering thoughts
Young life
by Alice Garnett
I am four days “not sober” and, already, I have consumed more units of alcohol than one would be advised to drink over a fortnight.
There’s falling off the wagon (sneaking a ciggie when you’re meant to be quitting) and then there’s launching oneself off head-first (drinking to the point of vomiting profusely in the back of an Uber—oh, and all over the Northern line platform at Stockwell).
Perhaps, after a month of not drinking, it would have been wise to embrace moderation. I should also add that I had never in my years of drinking to excess been sick like that before. It was a shock to me as well as my digestive system. And I apologise to my friends, whom Ihad abandoned in the club with an Irish goodbye, desperate to escape the crowds for fear I’d be sick on someone other than myself.