New Christmas Party Animal Required!

Tomorrow, I will be 18 weeks (!!!!) - that's 126 days - sober.  I feel good.  It is so lovely to not be thinking about booze all day everyday.  Those little niggles of feeling "I could moderate", "If only I could have ONE glass" are becoming rarer and rarer.

Our work Christmas party has always been a bit of a raucous affair.  A never ending supply of bottles and bottles of red and white wine sit at the table/s.  Your glass is never empty.  In fact, I don't think mine ever got to be half empty without it being topped up by either myself or someone else.

M was always our resident work party animal.  It didn't have to be the Christmas party - any work/social gathering would do.  I used to watch M with great interest because I could never ever pin point the moment she switched from being slightly tipsy to absolutely blotto.   I also always thought to myself "I'm not as bad as her". 

M was always the life and soul of the party, the one who was guaranteed to make an arse of herself and get away with it.  She was always "great fun".  Until she'd have that one too many.  She'd become even more demonstrative, the arms would be waving everywhere, she would become even more touchy feely and she spoke complete gibberish.  She became overbearing.  Yes, she was fabulous fun and great entertainment for everyone, except for me and a few other work colleagues who saw her antics as being over the top and, quite frankly, a showing up. 

Yes, that's right, even an alcohol dependent like me found her embarrassing.  That really makes me a bit of a hypocrite doesn't it?

One year, at a retirement do at a pub/restaurant in the middle of nowhere, M went missing.  Me and another work colleague looked everywhere we could think of - I even ventured into the men's toilets.  We did get very worried about her and we thought perhaps she might have fallen somewhere and hurt herself or wandered off.  The mini bus that we had booked that was taking her and some others home had to leave without her.  Eventually, M wandered around the corner looking a bit dishevelled.  She completely oblivious to the fact that everyone had been worried shit less.  She also had no idea where she had been.  It cost the company £50.00 to get a taxi to come and take her home.  The next day, at work, she remembered nothing.  But... (in a sarcastic tone) it was all good fun!

Unfortunately M died suddenly a couple of years ago.  Just in her early 60's and her big personality is still a big miss. 

However, M's passing left a vacancy for the post of 'Work Party Animal'.

I have always consoled myself with the fact that I always held my shit together at the Christmas Party (or any other work do).  I always made a point of never getting in to such a state that I made a fool of myself.  Although, there was that time that, after the work Christmas party, I got home and decided to let the dogs out in the back garden.  I forgot there was a step into it and promptly fell over (this has happened on more than one occasion).  I eventually hauled myself up and staggered back in to the house with one half of my body covered in mud.  I was so incapable that my younger daughter had to help me take of my dress, shoes and tights.  I then went straight to bed.  It was 6pm.  However, I digress and, anyway, that happened at home and not at work, so it doesn't count - right?

Anyway, at last years Christmas party I was hailed the new 'Work Party Animal' after:

1.  Going to the loo and coming back with the back of my dress tucked into my tights.

2.  Trying to pour a glass of wine with the cap still on the bottle.

3.  Not realising how much I'd drank, going outside for a cigarette and promptly falling over onto my hands and knees.

I generally just made an arse of myself.

Funnily enough, this was one of the scarce times when I remembered exactly what had happened the day after.  To say I was mortified was an understatement.

I really don't want to romanticise my drinking past or make my actions humorous.  They were just plain stupid and embarrassing.  And, I really did not like this new title.

So, this year, there is a new opening for the work Christmas Party Animal at my firm.  I no longer smoke and I no longer drink alcohol and I'd rather be that boring fart sitting in the corner than that pissed idiot on her hands and knees on the floor showing off her arse.

I do admit to already feeling a little nervous about our upcoming Christmas party.  Are people going to try to persuade me to have booze?  I'm strong enough to say "no thanks".  I'm also a little excited.  This year I can just coast along and enjoy myself.  I can then go home and stay awake until well after 6pm!