Last night it happened again. I had a few glasses of white wine and ended up having a go at MC, who was doing nothing more harmful than trying to persuade me to take a taxi home when we left the bar. My lovely friend V thinks there's something in the proverbial 'jesus juice' that sends women a bit mad and I have to say I think she's right. So why am I still drinking it? I know it brings out the worst in me. It's really not fair on MC either - if the situation were reversed, and he was the one who got aggressive after a few particular drinks I would be devastated that he kept on doing it. It would probably end up being a dealbreaker, and that in itself would break my heart.
The problem is... I like wine. I like the taste, the texture, the cultural ritual of having a glass of it. Fuck, that looks so selfish and frankly lame written down - I have to attempt some willpower at some point soon.