About 11 o’clock last night - six hours ago now - I decided to get an early night. Sure enough, two hours later I woke up, bright as a button, and now can’t get back to sleep. I’m not built for early nights.

In an attempt to get back to sleep I’ve decided to open a bottle of Diet Coke and try to get some work done. Which - as solutions go - is on a par with trying to sober up by opening a beer and trying to drive.

Ah, yes, sobering up. So turns out it’s been just over a month since I had my last drink. This came as a surprise - when a friend texted me a couple of days ago to congratulate me - because it was only two weeks since I wrote about my decision to quit. But of course by then it had already been a while since I’d actually sobered up for the last time - posts like that take a while to write.

I don’t really have much more to say about it, except it’s not getting any easier; but nor is it getting any harder. My friends have been great, the lack of hangovers has been a revelation, I’m still in book deadline hell, my personal life is as ridiculous as ever and I can’t fucking sleep.

Still - a whole month, eh?