Wine Club 10 October

I don’t know about you but I’m still drinking like a bloody fish. I just can’t help myself. I mean there’s bugger all else to do now that I’ve finally watched all those 264 episodes of Frasier chronologically, put 1,191 meticulously chosen songs on my Spotify playlist (that’s a heartening 74 hours and 28 minutes’ worth) and grown, shaped and finally cut off my thick, grizzly face fungus.

And since my don’t-eat-anything-white diet has worked so darn well (17lb lost since 1 August thank you very much) I can no longer obsess about that either. No, all I can think about is what I’m going to drink tonight. But hurrah for small victories, for it’s still what I’m going to drink tonight not what I’m going to drink today, as I cling by my fingertips to an uncorking time of 7 p.m.

My resolve was not helped one jot by the seductively tasty dozen or so bottles I was sent by Honest Grapes for this offer.