Diet makes me forget ‘death and destruction’

Because I’ve cut back on carbs, my tolerance for alcohol has become worryingly low. I went out for a meal the other night and instead of a main course with carbs, I had two starters without. Not a carb in sight. And the wine went straight to my head. Now, I didn’t just have one or two glasses. I had a tad more than that, but I felt fine. Or so I thought.

When I got home I opened the fridge, just for a look. I like to look at food even if I can’t have it. Now I can’t be sure what happened but the contents of the door of the fridge crashed to the floor and woke the whole house.

There was a glass bottle of red coloured juice among the casualties. Thankfully one of my offspring came to help and, having made weak attempts at cleaning up the broken glass, I decided I was superfluous and retired to my much-needed bed.

And then with a pounding head I arrived into the kitchen the following morning and was met with what appeared to be a scene from a world war.

Blood on the floor, blood splattered all over the cream kitchen units. ‘Oh Jesus, who’s dead’, I thought and it took me a full five minutes of abject fear to realise that it was the debris from the night before. The whole catastrophe had slipped my mind.

And I don’t have to have drink taken to be worried about my forgetfulness.

I was driving quite a distance the other day and as is my wont, I chatted away to the dog who is regularly in the back of the car. Not full blown conversations but things like ‘who’s the best dog?’ and the like. Only to discover when I was nearly back that the dog was not in the car, but sitting happily at home glad to have had a few hours of reprieve from the lunatic.