I suppose I better admit that I failed in my ambition not to drink until tomorrow, and therefore deserve punching. Chopper and I went to the pub this afternoon, so I’m currently pretty angry at myself. I suppose that, to be fair, it was not totally my fault: I needed money today, so I went to ask chopper if he wanted to accompany me on the ride down to Bexley. While I was outside his house, talking to him, one of his new neighbours popped up with a bottle of cheap champagne. He was new to the area, and I didn’t want to seem rude by turning down his offer of a cup. So that is how I broke my vow of abstinence, and once it was broken, I thought I might as well have a pint or two with my friend on my way home.

Given I was one day out I’m rather angry with myself, as I was sort of challenging myself. That makes me sound like a complete alcoholic, but I don’t really drink that much – I jut like a pint or two every couple of nights. I suppose, too, that I hadn’t drank since Saturday, and I seem to get quite anal about things like this, so there’s no need to beat myself up too much. I do need to cut down, and I have been feeling better this week for it, but I guess there is no point in flogging myself too much for missing an essentially arbitrary target. I guess my lapse today wasn’t the end of the world, but you are still free to punch me in the face.