Day 144: I bought wine.

A bottle of Shiraz Cabernet. It was weird going into the bottle shop, I haven't been in so long, and I had no idea what to buy. But I did buy something and I took it home and poured two cups... into my Boeuf Bourguignon. I must admit, on opening the bottle I did take a whiff and let the vision of a glass with dinner flutter through my mind. But that was it. Then it was back to cooking and vacuuming and showering and dressing and make-upping and perfuming in preparation for my dinner guests. The dinner was a triumph, with my boeuf being really quite delicious and my brother Nic's orange golden syrup pudding being just awesome. It was a delightful evening, and despite eating some quite decadent fodder, I didn't feel porked out by the end of it. I did, however, the other day see a photo of me with drink in hand at the very Melbourne Cup celebrations that effectively triggered this whole sobriety kick. Talk about an oinker! Why didn't anyone tell me I was such a chubster? Maybe my wine goggles were telling me I looked gorgeous/okay. In any case, who would have thought that simply not drinking for 144 days would have such a dramatic effect fat-wise? And thank Christ I'm here and not there in that bloated and sodden state. So yep, cheers to not drinking, and to a very pleasant night.