I was hoping to spend the whole of January - 31 long, challenging days - as a tea-total, do-gooding warrior of health.
A lover of... the gym, zero-point vegetable broth and kick-ass Pilates in my front room.
However, this all went to pot at around 10pm last night. 28 days in.
My boyfriend arrived from oop north and within a few hours I'd drank two G'nT's, 1/2 bottle of wine white and 1/2 bottle of champagne.
Whoops.
I have no recollection of getting into bed, at apparently 3am, with my make-up and clothes still intact. Nice.
And to add insult to injury, this morning I woke up with an injury. A drunken 'rudy nudy' injury.
I now fully understand what it means to.... "put your back out".
Although, I always thought this mainly referred to randy OAP's.
My boyfriend and I now have a matching pair of agonising lower backs. I shalln't go into anymore details, for the risk of my mother reading this.
However, I must say while I have little, OK.. no memory of how this happened, my fella assures me he put in a sterling effort.
And in this circustance I will have to take his word for it.
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