An extraordinary, unexpected and inexplicable development. This once-upon-a-time avid drinker of all things alcoholic has slipped and fallen… Onto (of all God forsaken places) the wagon. It began with the discreet elimination of certain favoured clear liquids: Silver tequila, vodka, gin. Then it progressed to a gradual decline in anything grape-related. Eventually, only ciders were consumed. And these were cut down to 2-3 at a time. Finally, even the ciders were left unattended, undrunk and unloved. After 2 weeks of sobriety, the panic kicked in. Where was the urge to drink? Two weekends came and went and no alcohol was craved or taken. When at long last the occasion to drink presented itself, two drinks were consumed but the behaviour was of one who’d had enough for one night. Shock, horror: one was now what avid drinkers refer to as a ‘lightweight’. Oh the shame! How can it be? And why should one be ashamed of ones semi-sobriety? So many questions and not enough drinks. Then the bulb above this sober head flickered on. A non-drinker I have become. Good grief. Feeling a loss of identity: you are what you drink. So who is this lady now? Is this non-drinking permanent? Or is it temporary? The lack of roaring hangovers to complain about is distressing. The lack of amusing drunk-tales is disturbing. But… (Big but) tendencies come and go and come again and go again. If my destiny is to be a non-drinker (and an indignant one at that), so be it. Health benefits, saving money etc aside, change is not to be feared. I am not afraid. A little anxious, a little bewildered, but unafraid.