Dry...

I have just completed my annual January off the booze and am now looking forward to my first pint in a month.

It is my fifth year undergoing this self-imposed booze exile and my third time of completing it. I succumbed one year on the final day of the month as there was a pool tournament and another year I cracked after 20 days following a spectacularly awful day at work.

But this year it's been a breeze, largely because I spent several months last year not drinking in preparation for my black belt grading.

I quite like the idea of trying tee-total for a longer period. But I love a pint or two and would miss it.

The only dodgy side effect my no-drinking seems to have had is a series of odd dreams, culminating in last night's night-time imaginings that I was dating Bianca from EastEnders and we were looking at a grotty flat in Goole for her and her kids. I persuaded her it was a dump and told her, plus the kids, to move in with me.

Then me and Bianca got jiggy to celebrate moving in together. And she was a surprisingly tender and responsive lover...

I probably need a pint...