5963/18983
I’ve had zero heroins in the last 18983 days (including today). Really pleased with myself for this long period of abstinence. I don’t know if my mum was drinking some delicious heroins when I was in utero so can only go back that far for now, but I am not responsible for what she did or didn’t funnel down my umbilical cord.
More impressively no chocolate or booze for 91 days. Have now lost 24lbs (10.8kgs) and am under 14 stone for the first time in three or four years. I reckon I’d be doing even better if I took a few heroins. Maybe it’s time to break my run…
I expected to hit another plateau at the end of March and am furious that Brexit hasn’t yet happened so I can still get food, but maybe a later Brexit will suit me, as the weight is steadily coming off now. Still a little way to go to be out of the obese BMI range and merely overweight, but pleased with the progress (and the fact that I am now never over 90kg whatever time I step on the scales) and it continues to be fairly effortless. But I have started to have dreams where I am drinking alcohol and then suddenly remembering that I shouldn’t be. So maybe my psyche is missing it more than I am.
Tuesdays are tough enough without a bug-ridden family, but I was amazed that after only 4 hours of disturbed sleep I managed to function fairly adequately throughout the day - catch up on loads of admin, take Ernie for his first haircut (and I decided to become a baby hairdresser as that’s a pretty easy job and you get a tenner a go and it takes about 3 minutes - though I guess you have to pay some of that back if you spike them in the face with your scissors), visit the library and the supermarket and then get the kids washed and to bed. Admittedly we didn’t last much longer than that, but we got through it. With snot streaming from all our noses. Let no one tell you that having kids is good. It is awful. They are a walking plague and can only bring you unhappiness.
In the cafe in town Catie went to the loo and I was left looking after both kids. I was giving my attention to the baby who was being a bit moany and it was only when a passing customer commented on what my daughter was doing that I realised she’d been quietly spooning my wife’s hot chocolate into a saucer to create a chocolaty lagoon. There was no malice and only experimentation in her actions but I said to her, “Oh no, why did you do that? You know mummy will blame me for this.” I mean, rightly, obviously, as it was my responsibility to look out for my kids.
Indeed when she returned Catie was surprised at what had happened, though not angry with me for once. “Why did you let her do that?” She asked, with exasperation more than annoyance. The people at the next table laughed. They enjoyed the pay off to this little sitcom scene and the fact it had panned out exactly as I predicted. Phoebe got away scot free. There is no justice.
