The Witch is Dead!!!

Staying sober involves being mindful of your booze triggers - and, by crikey, my biggest was work.  And, in particular, my boss (let's call her Sheila for the sake of this blog)!  This woman has been the bane of my existence - I've never known such a person to be so contrary and so intrinsically argumentative.  She's exactly the sort of person that would insist an apple was an orange.  It got to the point that I would, where I could, avoid interaction with the woman.  Conversations with her just left you with this knot in your stomach, that could may even be described as abject hatred (don't beat around the bush, guv - Ed)!

Well, dealing with this incessant Chinese water-torture (where, in cases, that dripping water was more like the bleeding Niagara Falls!) needed some form of defence.  And, surprise surprise, that defence was booze.  Three to four pints at lunch time made the afternoon more bearable.  Getting home, feeling up-tight, had a 'bad day' at work: bring on 3 litres of strong cider!  For those ultimately brief periods I'd be a little numb to the (perceived) misery of work!

However, the next morning I would be low.  Seriously low.  Sheila heaps on more shite; how do I fix it?  More drink, of course.  And so it goes!  I now know that I was drinking because I believed work to be unbearable.  However, and here's the rub, without the drink work is more than bearable (in fact, right now, I'm full of shiny optimism - for reasons I'll go into in a sec)!  And because work is bearable, and because I feel darn the opposite of low, Sheila is more bearable; ergo, I don't need to drink.  And so that goes...!

But get a load of this!  Not only is my daily work life manageable and nigh-on satisfying; I find out that Sheila has been granted voluntary severance!  She's leaving at Christmas!!  For the other side of the world!!!  Jesus, all my Christmases have really come along like buses!!!!  When she told us the news, I nearly exploded with joy - it felt like someone had just told me that Margaret Thatcher had snuffed it! That's how glorious this news is.  And, just to add icing to this marvellous Godsend of a cake, the woman taking over is rather sweet and lovely (and may even be, dare I say it, a pushover - and pushovers can be manipulated [cue evil genius excessive laugh]) - so things just get better and better.

If ditching that malevolent fiend that is alcohol results in such wonderful events occurring, I may even start doing the National Lottery again..!