Alcohol

 

I must admit that of all my behaviour since Celia died, has been my attitude to alcohol. I worried that I might drink for England or to oblivion, but it has not been the case. Well at least yet!

Take yesterday!

I thought perhaps it might be a good idea to buy a few half bottles in Tesco. That way I would not be tempted to open another.

But I couldn't drink the whole half bottle. It was good wine, but it just tasted foul.

Do we have some psychological mechanism that protects us from self-destruction?