I had some wine with my meal tonight, thus falling off the wagon, but in not too spectacular a fashion. I enjoyed it. I didn't get too drunk. Shame I didn't make it to the end of the month, but also don't see this as opening the floodgates to alcoholic oblivion. I intend to continue being moderate with the booze at least until I have shed another few kg.
It was an odd day to start drinking as I kept waking in the night last night with hot and cold sweats and was feeling very light-headed most of the day. I think this may be a delayed reaction to the yellow fever swimming around in my bloodstream. Coincidentally I had an appointment at the doctors today. It was only to register at the practice (something I have failed to do in my three and a half years in the Bush). I had gone in a couple of weeks ago to see about getting my jabs done, but they said they didn't do those here (which turned out to be a lie) and in any case I needed to regsiter.
That's what I was doing today. A jolly nurse in her 50s was taking me through all the forms. Everything I said seemed to make her chuckle, especially when I told her I was a comedian. Given the incredibly healthy month I have had it was hard to answer her questions without looking like a fantasist. "Do you exercise three times a week?"
"More like six times a week."
"How many alcoholic units do you drink weekly?"
"At the moment, none."
"The how come you are so fucking fat and heavy and that when I measured your stomach the tape measure was in the red zone?" she failed to ask, despite thinking it.
My stomach was 103 cm, which is really massive still (and I've lost about 5cm from that since the beginning of the month. She warned me of the future coronary dangers of having this body shape. It was enough to drive a man to drink.
My blood pressure is fine and despite me being covered in sweat she declared me quite fit for the moment, but it did bring home how important it is for me to get into better shape. There's more than vanity at play here - getting rid of my big 103 cm tummy would really help increase my chances of staying alive. And 103cm is just too much. My stomach is bigger than those old metre rules we used to use at school. I could be rolled around the schoolyard and used to help determine its length and breadth. How humiliating.
So why start drinking tonight after these warnings and when I was suffering from yellow fever? Well the time seemed right and unless I am going to stop drinking forever (which is an option) then I need to be able to moderate my intake. Plus this week I have remembered that when you're not drinking and you're out with people you spend about half your time discussing why you're not drinking. Having a glass of wine in front of you stops these interrogations taking place. I didn't massively enjoy it. It wasn't a wonderful relief. But it was pleasant enough and the evening moved along the better for it.
