Day 212: will I or won't I?

In general, when people find out about my little sober journey, what follows is speculation about what will happen when I return to the land of grog. My party line tends to go something like, I've kicked the binge-drinking thing, I don't want to be teetotal forever, but when I do start drinking again it will be in a limited and sophisticated fashion. But the reality is, I don't know what's going to happen. If history tells us anything, it's that I don't do things by halves. And just lately I have been getting little vision flashes of the fun that can be an unbridled party afternoon or evening - the long boozy barbeque, wines in the sunshine, dinner parties that last all night. It's like my brain has been giving me little tastes of what I used to like about drinking - that sense of relaxed freedom and zizzy fun. Of course, this might be my head rebelling against my current state of purity (let's not forget I am a woman of polar extremes), and even admitting these kinds of impulses makes me feel like a traitor to my clean, happy body. But there is every chance that I might taste alcohol again and tumble speedily back into my evil ways of old. Of course, another possibility is that I will be such an alcohol lightweight by that time, that a long drinking session will be physically impossible. Who knows? And actually, at this point, who cares? With 153 days to go, there's plenty more water to pass under the bridge before we start worrying about tidal waves of wine.