I have a bit of a confession to make this morning, over something I feel quite bad about. Last night, just a month after I told myself never to drink again, I had a beer. I knew I shouldn’t, and I told myself it would be the start of the slippery slope back to drunkenness, but it was no good. Weather I like it or not, alcohol still has power over me, and probably always will. Granted, it was just one beer with another delicious meal, so I suppose it was ok. Problems only arise when it gets out of hand: I had thought the best way to prevent that would be not to drink at all, but that does not look like it’s feasible for me. I suppose I just have to be sensible, watch myself, and only have the occasional drink, simply to satisfy urges which irritatingly persist.