Yesterday I had my first alcoholic drink in over eight months and it felt great. I'd recently become bored with my sobriety and there was no way I was going to stick it. I had become resentful towards it, so it seemed fitting that on the way to Peterborough for my first away of the season, I should have my rebirth. I know I'll have to stop drinking again if I lose control (again), but we'll just take it one session at a time.
Anyway, I'm absolutely shattered, thank everybody in the heavens for providing me with the inspiration to book this morning off. Thanks to a few wrong turns - a regular occurrence for my supporters' club - and a timely stop at a pizza shop, I arrived home last night after three o'clock. Praise be to Tim Cahill for stopping any chance of extra time and possibly penalties. We'd still be somewhere around Derby now if that was the case.
I'm not looking forward to work this afternoon, I just hate it now. It's getting beyond a joke. Can someone please fix it for me to win a few grand on tonight's lottery? I'd be happy with that. As long as I could pay off my credit cards in one go, I'd be quite happy leaving my job until something else came along.
Now I've just got to try to spend £0.00 for the next eight days (other than my money for Newcastle on Sunday). It shouldn't be too difficult as I don't have any money available.