Second night with no alcohol. I managed this by arranging to have dinner a little earlier than usual (made possible by the fact that the mister was home sick) and telling myself that I couldn’t drink because I *had* to get over to the treadmill after dinner because I haven’t been to the gym for so long and I can feel myself beginning my (re)descent onto the lounge which will lead to even more drinking and so on…
By the time I got back from the treadmill (there’s a small room in the middle of the compound which houses a treadmill and two bike-looking things no idea what they are) I was on a post-exercise high which made it easier to tell myself to go to my desk and fit in some bonus work. I was able to do said bonus work because I hadn’t had a drink so wasn’t drowsy.
All of this meant that when it was time for bed I felt that I had lived the last few hours in a most fulfilling manner and I went to bed satisfied.
Unfortunately, I was so satisfied with myself that my brain kept telling itself over and over just how satisfied it was with itself and I couldn’t get to sleep.
Final verdict? Unconvinced.