Small successes

A few months ago I wouldn't have even attempted to install wireless connection for my computer on a Sunday afternoon, because I'd probably be having a nap, sleeping off a boozy lunch. No, hang on, there would have been no lunch involved - just lots of drink.

Well, it took me a while today as I'm not very technically minded, but I am now sitting downstairs, television on, gorgeous cat snuggled up beside me, with my laptop connected to the internet and NO WIRES!

And because I wasn't sleeping off several bacardis or a bottle of wine, I was able to have my niece over so I could help her with her homework, and be able to drive her home safely.

These may be small successes, but the best of all is managing another sober day.

Time flies

I see a sky like this most days on my way to work and it always makes me smile.

Hard for me to believe how time passes so quickly these days. When I was drinking, it speeded up and slowed down - when it was slow, I drank to speed it up, and then curse myself because I wasted so much time sleeping it off or recovering. I suppose I drank to fill the emptiness, to try and relax, to try and escape, and all I succeeded in doing was waste a precious resource - time.

Now time flies by on its own. Even the long journey to work is gone in the blink of an eye. The first time I look at my watch during the day I'm always astonished to find how late it is - if it weren't for my stomach growling around midday, I'd probably miss lunch and only realise that it was getting late because it was growing dark outside.

I don't need to drink to fill the emptiness any more, because the emptiness has already been filled.

I don't need to drink to try and relax, because I find that I can switch off and unwind without it.

I don't need to drink to try and escape, because there is no escape. Most of the things I was trying to escape are still there and they won't go away so instead of trying to escape them, I'm trying to work on them instead. They aren't big things, it was never the size of the problems that got me down, it was the sheer number of them. Now I'm applying the same one-day-at-a-time approach to problem solving: one at a time. Feeling I had to deal with everything at once was so daunting that I think that's one of the reasons I drank, because it was too scary to contemplate all the things that needed to be done or changed.

One at a time, I can do.

New life

I really do feel as if I've been born into a new life.

An example - I've had car problems, thought they were fixed and sent a cheque along to the mechanic. Last night the car died and I thought the brakes failed that evening as I came off the motorway and I coasted to a halt on the side of the road. Obviously the problems aren't fixed at all! I got the car going again but have to fill it up with water every 15 miles (or so it seems) even though I had a new radiator fitted on Monday. Normally that kind of experience would have me halfway down a bottle of Bacardi before I'd even got my coat off or fed the cat ... but I was just grateful that I didn't cause an accident, and that it's going back to the garage on Monday.

Another example - Earlier this week my new boss spotted an error in a calculation which impacted on the bonuses being paid to the team. It wasn't my error. I'm there as his PA, not as a finance person, but I went home feeling sick with nerves. The fact that things weren't my fault hasn't stopped previous employers giving me a bollocking. My normal response would be to get drunk, so that the hangover would detract from the dressing down I'd get the following day, but I didn't - didn't get drunk, that is, and didn't get a dressing down. I went into my boss's office, shut the door, and waited for the axe to fall, but it didn't. He knew the error wasn't mine, and he wasn't about to blame me for it. He actually didn't get angry with the person who had made the mistake, just explained where he'd gone wrong and made suggestions about how to avoid similar mistakes in the future, and then he and I set about putting the situation right. What a novel experience! Not to be blamed for something I hadn't done, not to drink out of fear and anxiety, not to come out of my boss's office in tears - something that happened all too often in my last job.

I'm almost afraid to be happy in case things go wrong and I know that's silly, so I'm just going to try and relax and enjoy being who I'm meant to be - someone who enjoys her job and is valued for it, someone who has good colleagues and good friends, someone who looks forward to chatting to God every night and someone who is grateful for being sober.

If this really is my new life, long may it last!

The 8th Dwarf

When I was about 14 or 15 I took the role of Grumpy in the church pantomime of Snow White and the 7 Dwarves. As I could be very moody (and what teenager can't be?) the image stuck and my family still seem to think I'm in a bad mood whether I am or not. We live up to expectations or we live down to them. If someone expects you to be grumpy all the time and treats you like a moody so-and-so, you tend to behave like it. Well, I did/sometimes still do.

So on Monday, when I started to write this post, I could have got really grumpy in the car on the way home when I noticed rather a lot of steam coming out from under the bonnet.

I could have got really really grumpy to find that not only was there no oil, there was also no water, and neither of the warning lights had come on.

I topped up the water, and begged some oil from a kind neighbour, and smiled and was cheerful and tried not to be grumpy.

I went to the garage and bought oil for myself, and oil for the neighbour, and then went shopping. Because the neighbourhood isn't brilliant in places, you have to put a coin in the shopping trolley to release it from the rack, otherwise they get stolen, rammed into cars and shop windows, vandalised and dumped. I've long since stopped getting grumpy about never having a £1 coin for the trolley, so I have a handy little token on my car key-ring. I did my shopping, spent too much but was glad I didn't have the added expense of the bi-weekly bottle of rum any more and discovered, when I got back to the car, that the trolley token, mykey-ring, and my car key had disappeared!

Oh, lots of reasons to be grumpy! The assistant I spoke to shrugged and said that no-one had handed any keys in and turned away. I had to ask if she would consider putting my shopping somewhere safe while I looked for the keys and maybe she might like to help me look.

So ... frantic phone calls to a sister-in-law who wasn't there, a long wait outside in the cold, another trip into the store to ask if they could look again, another phone call to the sister-in-law to come and get me, tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat and the thought, 'I can't even have a drink to get over this when I finally get home ...'

And then one of the staff found my keys and all was well, and I went home and didn't drink, and was grateful, not grumpy ...

And the next day, on the way to work, the engine started pouring out steam and I panicked and drove to my friendly mechanic so that he could check if it was safe to drive, and he did a few tests and said yes, but he booked it in for Monday to run more thorough (and more expensive) checks. I got to work almost 3 hours after leaving home - 13 miles away - and I could have been grumpy but my new colleagues had seen me arrive from the window and had gone to get me a cup of coffee before I even got to my desk because they figured I'd need it. And my boss was stuck in traffic so he didn't even know I was late - although I told him when he arrived, and even then he didn't mind.

Had I been in my old job, had this all happened before I admitted I was drinking too much, I would have been grumpy about all the car problems. They would have been the final straw on top of my old crappy job, and I'd have gone home and drunk at least half a bottle of rum.

Financially I cannot afford to have car problems but that doesn't matter at the moment. Right now I am just so grateful that I didn't have an accident, that I have such kind colleagues and that I know a great mechanic who keeps my old heap of a car on the road. I am grateful that God was keeping an eye on me during the terrible wind storms that killed 13 people this week and kept me on the road safely despite all the car problems.

I feel for Grumpy, I really do. I sympathise with him and I have often been him in the past, but right now I ask myself how I can possibly be grumpy about simple mechanic things, like the car, when so much else, so many more important things, are going right?

So, if I could add another dwarf to Doc, Grumpy, Happy, Dopey, Sneezy, Sleepy and Bashful, I'd add Grateful and, much as I love Grumpy and identify with him, I think I'd rather be Grateful than Grumpy.

Whichever dwarf you are, or even if you are Snow White, have a Happy day!

Positivity

I'm not used to feeling this good, especially during the working week. I'm not used to singing along with the radio in the car on the way to work. I'm not used to voluntarily going in early and staying late.

I guess I'm not used to being happy.

So what's changed?

Basically, three things, in this order :

1. I stopped drinking
2. I started to pray each evening
3. I got a new job

Seems to me that if I carry on doing the first two, and enjoying the third, I can relax and get used to being happy.

That sounds like a good and simple plan for 2007: don't drink: pray, work hard and be happy. Let's see how that works or if I manage to sabotage it somehow. I'm usually so good at sabotage but this time I think I can make it.

New job update

Happy feet? Happy everything!

This is me, skipping down the corridor of my new office!

I was looking for a new job for 8 months. I was so miserable in my last job that the only thing I had to look forward to was a drink when I got home in the evenings. It didn't matter that it made me feel thick-headed in the mornings - I felt sick at the thought of another day in the office whether I drank or not.

I realised that the amount I was drinking was making the problem worse, even if it was temporarily alleviating the symptoms, and I stopped on 1 October. I started reading the blogs of people who had also made the decision - long before I did in many cases - to stop drinking alcohol and one thing that came over loud and clear in so many of the blogs I read was the concept of turning my life over to God and accepting His will.

I always swim against the tide but, one week, when I had three interviews, all of which I thought would be good jobs, I did say to God in prayer that I would leave it up to Him which job - if any - I got. I said that I knew He would make the right choice for me and that I would accept whatever He chose for me.

Within a few days I had been offered a new job and ... see picture at the top of this blog. It was the right job. I know it's only been 4 working days, but so far I'm loving it!

And the point of this post? I guess it's that other people's experiences and advice may inform and enlighten me, and point me in the right direction, but I can only really learn from my own mistakes and experiences. I made the mistake of thinking I was in charge of my own life, but once I asked for help and guidance, I received it.

I find it hard to take advice, so I try not to give it: all I can do is share my experience of having a prayer answered when I was at the end of my endurance. I hope that others may find a way to the support they need before they reach the point I did.

Happy New Year!

I hope your 2006 went out with a bang and that your 2007 started with one. Wait, I mean bang in the sense of the noise of fireworks, not bang in the American sense of ... oh well, either way, I hope you had a good one!

The end of 2006 was a lot more peaceful - and sober! - than the end of 2005. I had planned to spend New Year's Eve with a very good friend (unfortunately a heavy-drinking friend) with lots and lots of party food and the inevitable glass of champagne, which I knew I'd have difficulty refusing. Luckily for me - but unluckily for my friend - a severe dose of 'flu meant she spent the whole day in bed and I stayed at home, with my favourite television programmes, a glass of diet coke and my knitting! Hurrah! A sober new year!

Setting myself a target of 100 sober days in 2006 really worked for me and I'm pleased to say I made it. I've thought long and hard about what will work for me in 2007 and decided that setting a goal of staying sober just for today isn't enough. It means that if, one day, I have a drink, I'll have to go straight back to counting from day 1, and I'm far too competitive for that, so I've set myself a target of 250 sober days in 2007. 250 days is a minimum - it doesn't mean that I can stay sober until 7 September (250th day of the year!) and then go mad.

I know this is NOT the way most of you approach (not) drinking, but I know myself, and I know that I probably will manage way, way more than 250 days, but having that 'get out' clause without finding myself back at square one is what (I think) will work for me.

I'll let you know how I'm getting on, and in the meantime, I wish you all a very happy, healthy and sober 2007!

Home again

I met an old lover at Christmas. I knew he would be there, waiting for me, and I knew I would run to his arms. I thought that he would embrace me the moment I arrived at my holiday destination and never let me go. He opened his arms to me, but I said no that first night. I had factored in the number of days I could love him, and still reach my 100 alcohol-free days before the end of the year, so I resisted. He didn't push me. We shared a kiss and a cuddle over the next few days, and I realised that, although I enjoyed his touch, I didn't crave it as I once did. I drank in his love, his warmth, the familiarity of his embrace, but I didn't let him overpower me and now, now that I am back in my own home, I am raising a final glass to him.

I love drink. I love drinking. I love the taste and the freedom.

I hate drink. I hate drinking. I hate the compulsion and the tyranny.

It was great to meet my old lover again and spend time with him, because I know now that he is no good for me. I can't live with him, and I can't live without him.

I know now that I want to live without him. He and I may have a one night stand from time to time, but I will never allow him to dominate me again.

I am grateful for having had this opportunity to sort out my feelings towards my lover, my drink, my bottle. I am grateful for the discovery that, although I love him, I love myself more, I love the person I can be without him, without my drink, without my bottle.

Step 1. I admit that I am powerless over alcohol.

Freezing fog ...

... has brought the country's airports to a standstill. I'm hoping that it will clear by tomorrow as I'm (supposed to be) flying up to Manchester to spend Christmas with friends. All flights from my local airport going north were cancelled today.

This may be my last post until I get back next week, depending on the flight situation! So, in case I am not able to log on while I'm away, I wish all my friends in blogland a very happy and peaceful Christmas.

Have fun, everyone, and thanks for all your support and kind comments over the past 3 months. I'm looking forward to continuing my journey with you all in the new year.

xxx

Sober leaving party

Well, I did it! Today was my last day at work, the office Christmas lunch for 65 people (organized by me) and an after-lunch pub session followed by a meal out. Three different places that sell alcohol and loads of people wanting to buy me a farewell drink. Yesterday I was really stressing about it - so much to do, hardly any time to do it in, potential for tears as I said goodbye to some of the friends I've made, potential for squirming embarrassment if the Managing Director did the decent/normal/human thing of thanking me and giving me a leaving card - and I was muttering to myself all last evening, 'I'll want a drink, I know I'll want a bloody drink.'

But I didn't want a drink after all, when the time came. The Managing Director stood up to make a speech before our lunch arrived and said, 'Christmas again ... blah blah ... this time last year ... blah blah ... aren't we great, haven't we done well ... blah blah ... Linda's leaving ... blah blah ... this time next year ... new contract ... blah blah...'

He sat down and started tucking in to his food and then said, 'Oh, I forgot,' and ambled over to me and handed me a gift bag without a single word, and then went back to his seat. I'm so glad I was sober, because I can remember clearly that that moment just summed up why I was leaving - the totally appalling way the staff are treated as second-class citizens - and reassured me that I have made the right decision to leave.

That aside, a really good time was had by all, and almost everyone came over at some point to wish me luck and thank me for all I'd done. I have a card with signatures and good wishes from everyone, and I have the most gorgeous necklace and bracelet I've ever seen. They're hand-made in silver with amethyst and blue lace agate and each piece by this designer is unique. They must have cost a fortune and I was really touched to realise how much people thought of me, even if the managing director didn't have the grace or the manners to say goodbye or do a proper presentation.

A whole bunch of us went to the pub and I stayed sober there, too. After a few hours we went into town to a new Greek restaurant and they all drank red wine, and I drank water. At 10 I left them in town - they were off to another bar but I was beginning to feel tired and it was time for me to come home.

I stayed sober at my own leaving do! My friends and colleagues won't remember me as someone who got drunk and bad-mouthed the company and the boss, and got too loud and fell over. They will remember me as I want to be remembered - funny, friendly, professional, and sober.

I don't talk about God much in this blog, but I am grateful to Him for giving me the strength to say no to all the offers of alcohol I've had today.

Another sober day to add to all the others on the chalkboard in my kitchen. Another night I shall go to bed and fall asleep because I'm tired, not pass out because I'm drunk. It feels good. It feels very good.

Last day at work

My last day at work isn't until Wednesday, so I haven't had to face the pressure of having a 'few' farewell drinks yet - I've just been trying to plan ahead (ie plan not to!) because until saying no becomes second nature, I find it easier to follow a course of action I've rehearsed.

I'm feeling quite strong at the moment (and I know pride comes before a fall, so I'm careful not to be proud of myself!) and I'm not sure why. It could be because now I know I'm leaving my awful job for a new one, I don't feel so miserable. It could be because I'm enjoying feeling mentally alert right to the end of the day. It could be because it's so nice not to wake up in a sweat in the night with a raging thirst and a horrible taste in my mouth. Whatever the reason, I'm very grateful.

Planning NOT to drink

My last day at work is looming over the horizon and it co-incides with our Christmas lunch - all paid for by the company, including drinks. Some of the friends I've made there have been planning to go into town after the lunch and so many of them have made alternative transport arrangements so that they can 'get wrecked', 'let their hair down' (which means get wrecked) or 'see you off in style' (which also means get wrecked).

I'd been thinking how much I'd like a drink at the Christmas lunch, how much I feel I've earned it after the awful, awful time I've had at that company, and I've been muttering defiantly, 'I'm going to have a drink, I deserve a drink, I never said I was giving up forever.'

But I've thought about it, and I can't be sure it would be just 'a' drink. Certainly heading into town afterwards to hit the bars almost guarantees that I'd come home singing off-key in a taxi or falling over in the street, so I've made up my mind.

Today I sent an email to the colleague who's co-ordinating the after-lunch trip into town to say, 'I'll join you, but I shan't be drinking. I need to keep a clear head, and I'll be driving, so I'll be on soft drinks only.' I'm beginning to find that it's easier just to say no than try and convince myself to stick to 'just the one'. If I was able to stick to 'just the one' I wouldn't be here in the first place!

I guess you'd call that progress?

Regular disappointment ...

I was going to delete this post because I did spend a pleasant couple of hours at my brother's house. He had cancelled his tennis match (he says) and the rest of the family was there after all - eventually. I decided to leave the post as it stands, to remind myself of how I can get so upset, and how it's always led to drinking. If I'd had a drink this afternoon after the 'phone call I'd have gone round in a bad mood. As it was, I'd accepted that this was all I was going to see of them over Christmas so I'd better make the most of it. I'm still disappointed though.

I don't know why I'm even surprised at my family - this happens almost every time I have any contact with them.

'My family' consists of my brother, his wife and their 2 children. They live about a mile away and I see them if I drop in on them - I'm never invited there for a meal or anything. My sister-in-law's mother is there every week from about 40 miles away to spend the day and have a meal with them.

Anyway, they are off to Thailand this Christmas - they leave on Thursday. I asked when I was going to see them so that I could give the girls their presents and my sister-in-law said Monday - today. Then I got an email to say that my brother and my eldest niece would be out so there would just be 2 of them. Not the whole family then. I've taken the day off today and called to say that I could come round earlier so that I could see all of them and it turns out that my younger niece is going out as well, and my sister-in-law is going into town! My elder niece is poorly so isn't going out after all, so, as my sister-in-law said, 'Come round anyway. Someone will be here to let you in.'

Well, merry Christmas, family. You go off to have a lovely time in Thailand. Don't even bother to set aside one evening for me. I've been good enough for years and years to babysit, I've been good enough to drop everything whenever my elder niece (now 16) has a boyfriend crisis, but I'm not good enough for you to spare one evening before Christmas. Thanks. Merry bloody Christmas to you.

If I'd had this kind of telephone conversation with my sister-in-law last Christmas I'd have hung up and promptly poured myself a rum and coke and made myself even more depressed, but I'm not going to do it today. All I'd be doing is adding a hangover to the disappointment.

It hurts me to say this, but I'll say it anyway. They are not worth it.

6 Weird Things About Me

This seems to be the blogging equivalent of those email snowballs you get at this time of year!

6 Weird Things About Me - tough choice, there are so many weird things about me!

1. I like rats, mice, bats and snakes.
2. When someone gives me directions to get somewhere, my brain shuts down and I still get lost.
3. I would rather spend Christmas alone than with friends or family, but have only once managed to co-ordinate my excuses to do that!
4. I don't like New Year celebrations - too much pressure to have fun.
5. I have already planned my 'exit' if I get too old, infirm or ga-ga to look after myself but I will be too old, infirm and ga-ga to carry it out!

I tag... Shannon, Shadow ... and everyone else on my list seems to have already been tagged! So I shall be spending my Sunday stalking bloggers who have remained tag-free! Keep looking over your shoulder, I'll be there somewhere, waiting to tag you!

The Rules - Each player of this game starts with the 6 Weird Things About You. People who get tagged need to write a blog entry of their own 6 Weird Things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog!

Drinking nightmare come true!

When I was drinking I was always careful to stay under the drink-driving limit but there were times, I admit, when I wasn't careful enough, or when my calculations erred on the side of generous. Driving back from friends' houses in the car late at night, if I saw a police car in the rear-view mirror my heart would stop. I'd be terrified of being pulled over for any reason - like speeding, or having a faulty light - because I'd know that if they smelled any alcohol I'd be breathalised and, for all my careful calculations, I just know that sometimes I'd have been over the limit.

Tonight, on a long trip home from a concert at 2am, a police van pulled in behind me. It followed me into the road that peters out into a track going into woodland and I told myself that maybe someone had reported a disturbance in the woods. I turn left before the woods - so did the van. I turned left again - so did the van. I turned into my road, which is a cul-de-sac. The road goes nowhere. You get to the end and you have to turn around to get out again. I turned into my driveway, and the police van pulled up outside my house.

My heart didn't stop. It didn't pound. I was a bit concerned but I wasn't terrified. I got out and asked the officer if everything was OK and he said, 'Your brake light is out. We were called to a shout in your road and I said to my colleague, that poor woman must be really worried with us behind her!'

This poor woman smiled and apologised about the brake light, and the officer said with a smile, 'Oh, don't worry about it, just get it fixed asap - you don't want to get pulled over by the police, it's a £30 fine!'

He could have fined me, but he didn't. If this had happened 3 months ago he'd have smelled alcohol on me and he would have breathalised me and fined me for the brake light. I may or may not have been over the limit. I may or may not have lost my licence.

Thank God my nightmare about being pulled over by the police ended the way it did.

Thank God I've seen sense about my drinking and stopped.

Countdown

News that I've handed my notice in is beginning to filter through the company and there have been a few people who've waylayed me in the corridor to congratulate me on 'getting out' and wish me well for the future. The majority of those people have suggested that we go out for 'a few drinks' one lunchtime before I leave and although my resolve is strong at the moment, I'm feeling the teeniest bit resentful: I'm leaving this awful place! Over the past 20 months I've had the life and soul sucked out of me and I'm not the happy, relaxed, confident person I was when I joined. I've worked very hard to find a new job. Why shouldn't I celebrate with a few drinks?

If I could be sure that it would be just a few drinks I'd probably cave in but, to be honest, I can't say with my hand on my heart that I could stop again once I'd started. So, despite the golden opportunity to unleash the party me and accept all the free drinks I'm offered to celebrate my leaving, I'm going to stick to soft drinks.

And to remind myself that getting drunk isn't any fun, I've added another 'horror story' to my separate blog - links can be found through my profile (until I work out how to add it to the sidebar of this blog!)

Today's the day!

Today's the day I hand in my notice at work - 4pm, to be precise. I've scheduled my regular 1:1 meeting with my line manager for then and in a way I'm looking forward to it, and in another way I am sick with nerves. It's 85% down to him that I'm leaving: his appalling (mis)management of his team (me and 2 others), his lack of communication, his total disinterest in my career, and the fact that he blatantly lied about the job when I came for interview and has done nothing to address my concerns in the 20 months I've been here. I've been the first to defend him to others when things weren't his fault, but I'm not going to carry on letting him get away with all the shit he's been putting me through. I can't let some other poor person get interviewed for my job and end up being as unhappy, demotivated, disenchanted and stressed as I have become, so I'm also sending a letter to the Chief Exec and the MD to explain my reasons - because my line manager sure as hell will try and gloss things over.

I hate confrontation so this afternoon is going to be hard for me. Once upon a time, in a galaxy not very far from where I am right now, I'd have had a drink as soon as I got in from work to 'get over it' (or to celebrate having done it!) but I'm not going to tonight ...

Later that same day ...

I did it. I told my line manager I was leaving. I remained polite and calm. He knew some of my reasons but did not acknowledge his part in my decision. That doesn't matter, he will have to answer to someone other than me for that. I didn't back down on any of the points I made. I came out of his office and went back to mine, which I share with someone who has been, shall we say, difficult and unfriendly, and sometimes downright nasty to me, over the past 20 months. When I told her I was leaving she looked horrified, said, 'Oh no! You can't go!' and jumped up and hugged me and started to cry. Wow! I know a lot of that is because she's going to end up with a lot of my work while they look for someone else but she did seem genuinely sorry that I was going and I thought, all the time she was being difficult and unfriendly and downright nasty, I took it from her and was pleasant back to her, thinking that I was a mug for not answering back or making a fuss, but actually I was doing the right thing.

After that I went to see an ex-colleague who left in the summer. She had the same line manager as me and she couldn't work with him any longer, for the same reasons I couldn't, so she left. Funny, that.

Anyway, the deed is done, the glass of celebratory diet coke has been drunk, and this exhausted blogger is going to bed!

I hope you all sleep well tonight. I know I shall, for the first time in weeks!

Christmas cards

On the first Saturday night in December, I always write my Christmas cards. On the first Sunday in December I used to have to open them all up again to see what I'd written in them. I used to write my cards with first one, then two, then three and more glasses of wine and get more and more emotional as the evening and the pile of Christmas cards lengthened. Usually I hadn't written anything embarrassing, but often the handwriting had become illegible.

Last night I started to write my Christmas cards. This morning I don't need to open any of the envelopes to check the contents. What a bonus to not drinking! No hangover on a Sunday morning and 2 extra hours that would normally be spent opening and re-writing my cards!

Before I forget ...

... something spooky's just happened.

This morning, before I was properly awake, but when I was no longer asleep, I had the drowsy random thought that I would probably never hear a particular song again. It was a song I loved from the very early '70s, '72, I think. I only had it on one of those 'flexi-discs', a 7-inch record made of thin plastic that were sometimes given away free on magazines, and although it was popular at the time, it wasn't a huge hit, and it's almost never played on the radio.

This afternoon, sitting at the computer and getting stuck on the continuation of my novel, I was rather grumpily working out in my head that if I want to get my 100 sober days in before the end of the year I might be able to have a drink on New Year's Eve, or actually at Christmas, but I certainly couldn't have one today, although I do want one. I stood up to go downstairs and check the calendar to count the days and make sure I couldn't squeeze a drink in tonight and I heard three distinctive notes on the radio - the song I'd been half-thinking, half-dreaming of this morning!

So I turned the radio up and sang along and now I don't want a drink any more, the desire has passed.

It may sound ridiculous, but it's little things like this that tell me God does actually care about me. I know He exists, but I feel bad about making calls on His time, when there is so much else going on the world, and so many other people with much greater needs than mine. It's as if I don't feel important enough to Him. Something as simple as that song just now on the radio is like a hand on my shoulder and a voice saying, 'You're doing great and I'm here for you, you just have to ask - oh, and I was listening, I am always listening, even when you're not asking, so here's that song.'

Right, I'm going to stop crying now and get on with my novel, now that I've had my musical reminder that what I do does matter.

Broken wrist

No, not now! I've been reading MC's blog - problems with her back, poor thing - and I was reminded of the time I broke my wrist, just over 2 years ago. I fell over backwards, put my hand out to save myself, and fell awkwardly onto it, fracturing the radius and the ulna. Everyone, without exception, assumed I'd been drunk. I was most offended because I was stone cold sober, it was 8 in the morning and I'd just put on a pair of new shoes that were higher than I normally wear, and I wobbled and fell.

That first evening I decided that, apart from having a month off work in mid-summer, but not being able to drive the car to go anywhere to enjoy it, the very worst thing about breaking my wrist was that I couldn't uncork a bottle of wine. I was so frustrated that I went to my next-door neighbour (a non-drinker because she's never liked the taste) with bottle and corksrew and asked her to help me. She did so, but gave me a very disapproving look and asked me if I thought it was a good idea while I was on the horse-strength pain-killers I'd been given. I said that I only wanted a small glass, and that the bottle would probably last a week. Who was I trying to kid? Only my neighbour - I knew I'd finish it all in one go.

Not wanting to spend the next month trying different neighbours every night to open my wine for me, I discovered the joys online grocery shopping and screw-top bottles.

After the first month I was signed off for another 4 weeks. The time just flew past - day-time television and at least one bottle of wine daily. What a wicked waste of 2 months at home! I shan't be wasting time like that again, that much I do know!