Last night, I stood off booze. Almost. I drank only one glass of Disaronno and two glasses of red wine. Woke up at 8 a.m. and went running. I did my usual route four times (6 kilometres) with relative ease, the downside was that I splitted my new sweatpants that I bought from a second-hand store just a week ago. They weren't overly expensive, but now I need to find a new one nevertheless.
Saturday. Football from the telly. Three matches and some red wine, some liqueur, beer. I couldn't resist. What can you do. Shouldn't have. But I did. "First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you” like F. Scott Fitzgerald put it.
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