Dry January

So it's off the booze for January. This is not as funny or as easy as it sounds. You get aware of that very quickly; like the first evening, and even this is little more than a 'Less Sodden January' since I'm only cutting down to the barest of rations so far; but perhaps it's best to give it up altogether. That's a dreadful thought; that or the doc enforces perpetual sobriety.
The effect is very disturbing, like walking around with half the lights off or being condemned to listening to Iron Maiden for ever. It's clear I'm particularly choosy about my reality, and I don't like not being able to filter it out at will. What to do? Feel like a zombie, save up for a Harley, a turntable upgrade? Whatever middle aged people do when they can't enjoy what they actually like doing?
So I stare nostalgically back at the picture above, of me with Gordon Murray, a student who for some reason had the nickname 'Daisy' in Cleopatra's Barge, Caesars Palace, Las Vegas, circa 1997. Those were the days/nights/whatever.
Photo Copyright Paul Davies