An honest evening

A brief account of the week.

The pub is still the pub. I had worried about that more than anything.

Looked honestly at my drinking for the first time in about fifteen years. That was not a comfortable evening.

It simply stopped appealing. I miss the ritual more than the drink, which tells me something.

Two drinks landed like five. I stopped after one and have done ever since, not from virtue, just from arithmetic.

À la prochaine.