Day 21 - Taking Stock

Waking up hangover free on my 21st day Without Wine, I realized that I have not been alcohol free for this long for at least 12 years.
So I thought I would take stock of some physical changes :

• My skin looks clearer.

I have always hated my skin. I am very fair (redhead before the grey set in), as a teenager I had dreadful acne, and I've always had very high colour - sort of like I'm blushing the whole time. Years of my skin trying to cope with the daily dehydration of alcohol, and attempting to purge my body of doses of poison, my skin has become dry and ichy, blotchy with large pores that were accentuated by nightly sweating.
Today, the blotchiness has gone. The redness has toned down considerably. My pores look tighter, and the rough dry patches have all but for a couple of areas around my nose, disappeared. For the first time in years, I see my freckles!

• I am sleeping better.

Part from feeling refreshed in the morning, the dark circles around my eyes are reduced. I still have days of feeling listless, but in the most part, I feel energetic. My productivity has increased, which has lead to ...

• Less depression.

Getting stuff done has increased my feelings of self worth. Not having to worry about stupid things I've said, or written on facebook, having enjoyable evenings with my husband, pottering around in the garden, a cleaner house...a myriad of small things have added up to add to my state of general happiness.

• Weight loss

The BIG ONE. Well, I haven't weighed myself yet, and I don't think I have lost pounds and pounds, but my face is less puffy and my clothes feel a little more comfortable. I'm not ready to step on the scales yet.

Do I miss Wine? No. Today, as I'm writing this, I can say honestly that I don't miss it at all. I know that this may change, so when I am facing down my inner Wine Bitch, I will re-read this blog.

I hope it helps anyone who is new to this journey, or even if you are not.

Have a great weekend. xx

Day 20 - Another Day in Paradise

No really, it is another day in Paradise - remember way back when it was the first day of summer holidays when you were a child? Six weeks of sun and freedom stretched out in front of you......that feeling is one that I have been recapturing over the last 20 mornings.
I open the front door, and sit in the morning sun with my coffee. I walk through the wet grass to my garden, and putter around my greenhouse. I watch the swallows dive and swoop after insects, and occasionally a shadow passes over from an eagle soaring in the morning thermals.
I feel reconnected, if that makes sense.
Have a lovely Friday.
#sobersummer.

Sad Movies

One of the best things about being alone in the house, is all the time I have to get on and do productive things! Ha ha, I wish!
No, the best thing used to be that I could drink as much wine as I liked.
So this time (first time sober and alone for a few days), I DID make a list of all the productive things I could do (and I have actually done some of them), AND I made a list of all the movies I want to watch, without my husband, sighing, and shifting around in his chair, and making loud phone calls....you know....Chick Flicks ( otherwise known as any movie that doesn't have a high speed car chase).
So one of my picks for last night was "Still Alice".
It's a real tear-jerker. Julianne Moore is spectacular as Alice, a highly intelligent linguistic professor, who gets diagnosed with Alzheimers. The film is about her demise, her struggle to hold on to her mind and her memories.
I sobbed just about all the way through. Even my cat who dislikes being cuddled, curled up on my lap.
Tears poured down my cheeks, snot ran like a river from my nose. Not pretty.
It was really sad, but the one thought that rattled around in my brain, was " That poor lady had a horrible disease through no fault of her own, and I was drinking myself to death"
I know. Sounds a bit theatrical, and not very British.
But we are only given one body. We get to do with it, what we will. Some people look after it, exercise it, feed it nourishing stuff, rest it......and some of us abuse it with alcohol, sugar, and a lifetime on the couch. And then look to the health care system to patch us up.
I am hoping that I can reverse the damage. I am hoping that my body will forgive me. I am hoping to live a long life, free from disease. And I hope that all of you do too.
And tonight I am watching Bridesmaids II.

Day 18 - Stop It!

It seems really bizarre doesn't it (this is what I was thinking last night), we pour a liquid down out throat, it alters our mind, sometimes robs us of memory, makes us say things we wouldn't usually dream of saying, and makes us dehydrated, and feel horrible the next day. So what do we do?
We drink more and more and more.
How stupid is that?
This is a really short bog today, because I am posting a link to a video that hopefully will make you laugh as much as me

 https://youtu.be/85xjGEi89aI

xx

Day 17 - Alone at last...

Day 17, and I am alone in the house until Friday morning. My husband is on a fishing trip. He lives for fishing (ex commercial fisherman) and I love the fresh seafood, so I never complain when he disappears for a few days, and then returns with lovely halibut or salmon.
And not mention, the "alone time" that I also enjoyed as an excuse to drink more wine...
"Well, I deserve a treat too, maybe a book this afternoon with a lovely glass of chilled white wine..." except it was never one glass, more like two bottles (because I started around 2pm in the afternoon), and more often or not, I would wake up about midnight, still on the couch, no dinner, no recollection of the last few hours, missed calls from my husband, feeling like crap.
So this time will be my first "sober alone time".
So I am prepared.
I have a list of stuff I want to accomplish - cleaning out closets, working in the garden, catching up on admin for our businesses....and I have planned healthy meals (need to shop for them), and I have a couple of bottles of non alcoholic wine (I tried beer, I don't like it...the wine is ok with a couple of ice cubes, and topped up with soda water).
So I am prepared.
For the first time, I realize how much of a hermit I have become.

Day 15/16 Sunday = Funday

I have always loathed Sundays. It was always the day that I couldn't put off Math homework anymore ( although it was often finished on the bus to school Monday morning), and it was the day that my Mum frantically cleaned the house before she went back to work on Monday.
Mum worked full time, as soon as we were old enough not to need after school care. She had a career, but was of the "have it all" generation, that meant that she was guilty about us when she was at work (she need not have, we were fine) and guilty if she took time off, because of the pressures of her job.
Consequently, weekends were like this

Saturday - dragged around supermarket for the morning, visit grandparents in the afternoon
Sunday - house work all day, obligatory Roast Dinner, run around like a headless chicken making sure we were ready for school.

Mum was in a bad mood on Sundays, and we (my brother and I) had to also spend the day doing chores / homework.
 My job was to iron shirts. I actually didn't mind doing this, I watched "The Waltons" as I was ironing.

However, when I was older, I was usually ironing with a hangover, having been to a party and indulged in under- aged drinking (mostly cheap cider, unless someone raided their parents drinks cabinet, in which case, we could be drinking anything from Creme de Menthe to Cooking Sherry).

As an adult, the Hangover Sunday was the norm. The last time I had a hangover on a Sunday was 9th May 2015 ( Day 1 of sober life) which also happened to be Mother's Day in Canada, and I had fifteen people to dinner.

Yesterday (Day 15) I wanted to start a New Trend. Sunday = Funday.

My husband got up early and made me coffee in bed (lovely) and then we stole my stepson's VW convertible buggy (he shouldn't leave the keys in it), and bombed around the Island, checking in on Farmer's Markets that I  have never visited in the ten years I have lived on Vancouver Island (hangover, remember), and stopped and had lunch in the pub ( totally not a problem for me ) and then spent the day in the garden.

It was a FUN DAY.

But the trouble with Sunday Funday? It's still followed by Monday, and today I found myself channeling my mother and cleaning the house like a mad woman!

Charity Begins.....where?

In Canada, there is a small surcharge on bottles and cans of pop and alcohol (more for alcohol containers for some bizarre reason, after all they are all made of the same material *scratches head in bewilderment *), and it's possible to claim this surcharge back, if you return your empties to a Recycling Depot.
This poses a dilemma for the copious drinkers among us (well, me). On one hand, it's nice to get some money back (almost like you earned it), and in the past it was usually enough to buy another bottle of wine (it's only a few cents per bottle, so do the math), BUT on the other hand, there is the shame and embarrassment of the truck load of empties.
"Goodness me"....I would say..."we haven't done our recycling for ages " ignoring the exchange of judgmental glances between the Depot staff (imagined).
There was (is) an alternative, we can wait until the local school has a bottle drive to raise money for a sports team, and then the kids (driven by their parents) will come to collect the bottles and cans.
Last time I could have climbed into a hole and buried myself with dirt.
"Dad, Dad...look at HOW MANY THIS LADY HAS!!!" The kids were whooping with excitement at the goldmine of empties.......never again. (Also bear in mind that I live in a very small community and have an English accent, which is memorable, so I can just imagine....." Yes, that alcoholic English Lady, poor thing, AND they eat terrible food..."
So my charitable acts stopped immediately, and we went back to removing the Pile of Shame to the Recycling Depot once again.
This morning, I got to redeem myself on the charitable front. I donated my loose change to the local athletic teams who were cooking up hotdogs outside the grocery store.
On past Saturday mornings, usually I wouldn't have been at the grocery store that early, and I would have certainly avoided the Hotdog stand because the smell would have made me even more queasy.
Today, I dropped my coins in the box, smiled at the parents and refused a Hotdog. They are disgusting little parcels of mystery meat.
And they say the English eat terrible food!

Day 13 - When Fiction Imitates Life...

I have just finished reading "The Girl on the Train" by Paula Hawkins. Well, I not so much read it, as inhaled it in one sitting. First of all I love psychological thrillers and mysteries, and secondly, over the last two weeks or so, I have slowly got my reading mojo back (helps to fill the wine shaped void). Also, I found the description of how this lady fell into the alcohol sink hole and thrashed around there, in part as if the author had just documented my life.
If you read the book and wonder, the really bad parts don't apply, but I can totally relate to the black outs, lack of memory of conversation and entire evenings as well as all the phone calls and emails sent whilst under the influence.
My greatest relief in these last 13 mornings, is NOT to have to check my phone, my email and my face book page to check what stupid incoherent message I made public, because it must have seemed like a good idea in my wine stupor.
I still feel the cringing embarrassment and shame.
Sadly over the last few years I have managed to screw up perfectly good friendships, due to my Wine Alter Ego, that turned me into a mean, spiteful, obsessive and hurtful person.
The reason I chose the name "The Wine Bitch" is because I feel that this is who I became.
The hard part going forward (as well as ongoing sobriety) is facing up to some of the horrible things I've said and done, and somehow make amends.

Well, here's to being better ** raises glass of sparkling water and lime **.....have a great weekend xx

Day 12 - Feeling a bit Flat..

I woke up this morning feeling.......nothing. How weird. Over the last 10 days or so, I have been waking up feeling elated that I didn't drink the previous day...And regardless of how I have felt physically, emotionally and mentally I have been cheering and doing handstands (in my head).
This feeling wears off around 3.00pm, when I start twitching a little and clock watching for the magic hour of Five O'clock.
When Five O'clock comes, I have either taken myself into the garden to weed, or I have worked a little longer, and somehow the mental craving for wine lessens.

But  this morning...flatness. Of course, I have only really experienced depression, shame, grumpiness, and self loathing in the morning, along with queasiness, sweatiness, and bloatedness (not sure if that's a word), for the last fifteen years, followed by the aforementioned elated and happy feelings over the last ten or so days, so this "nothingness" was a bit of a surprise.

I am sad? No. Happy? No. Angry? No...... Just flat.

Is this how "normal " people feel?

So I drank my coffee....still loving how that tastes in the morning without the acid stomach and heartburn.....and fiddled around in the garden, and very soon, I was humming and weeding and chatting to my cat.

I have read so much about how people have suppressed their feelings with alcohol that they get weepy and emotional when they stop drinking. I think for me that this is the other way around. My emotions were heightened when drinking, I could get really angry and argumentative, cry, laught hysterically....and every little situation was a Huge Dramatic Incident.

I don't want to sound all "navel gazey", but I think that part of the reason I drank, was that I was afraid of "flat" and "normal".

Actually, I think this flatness is really peace and calm. It's not so bad!!

Day 11 - Back to Business

One of the things I have neglected over the last (long) while, is my business. I have also only really been "dropping in" to my husband's business too.
After a disastrous business venture with a partner ( which night after night drinking wine did nothing to improve....surprise!), I decided to branch out on my own, and also help out with my husband's business.
I was full of good intentions. Yet, working at home merely opened up more drinking opportunities. Before, I would never had drunk wine at lunchtime - just made up for it when I got home - working from home, I could have a glass or two at lunchtime "just to help me relax and let the creativity flow..". Inevitably, the long lunchtime turned into a snooze on the couch, waking up in time for "wine o'clock" and there "Poof!" Another day gone, and zero productivity from me.
Yesterday, we had a business meeting scheduled with a local politician. This meeting had been planned about a month ago, and in my wine haze, I had omitted to write the appointment in our business diary. Luckily, our business associate called and reminded us the evening before.
So, had I still been drinking, this is the way it would have all panned out....

4.00pm. Reminder call about meeting the next day.
4.30pm. I half heartily make a few notes until..
5.00pm I open a bottle of wine.
6.00pm I grumpily go back to making notes....
7.00pm I give up, saying..."I'll get up early and finish prepping for the meeting..
7.01 pm I carry on drinking until I fall into bed...

8.00am. I wake up feeling groggy and sweaty
8.01am I remember about the meeting...and think "Fuck it, I'll wing it"
8.45am I drag myself out of bed
9.15am I argue with husband about getting ready
9.45 am I am finally out of the shower.
10.00am. I am dressed, feeling bloated, flushed, sweaty and grumpy...
10.30 am I am in the meeting, trying to focus, while ignoring the pounding behind my left eye.

12.00 noon. Meeting over and we go for lunch.
12.01 pm. I order a large glass of white wine to "celebrate"

Yesterday, I am thrilled to say that it was all a New Story. I was well prepared, with notes and printouts arranged neatly on the kitchen table the night before.
Despite feeling a little groggy (see yesterday's post), it all went away after a shower. I put on make up (!), dressed up, and we were still early enough to stop for another coffee on the way to the meeting.
During the meeting, I participated, even cracked the odd joke ....and made notes!
I felt inspired, so after lunch (sparkling water) I came home and did another solid three hours work on my own business!

I had almost forgotten the fulfilled, satisfied feeling after a productive day! I had a early night....tired, but I came by it honestly....and I read a few pages of my novel about the Boston Strangler....and fell into a contented sleep!

Day 10 - Shouldn't I feel Like Tigger?

It's another glorious day here, I am sipping coffee, completely hangover free, watching swallows swoop and dive in my garden, and I'm feeling.......like a bag of poo!! What the hell???

According to the (our) Alcohol Free Guru - Jason Vale, it takes about five to ten days to rid the body of all traces of alcohol, so shouldn't I be leaping out of bed and "Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy..." like Tigger? Not shuffling from the bedroom, feeling like I've done ten rounds with Mike Tyson (still got my ear though, lol)?

It's a bit of a let down, didn't I give up to feel better?

 I did let one thought in " If you feel hungover when you're not drinking....you might as well have a cool chilled bottle of Chablis and at least have a reason...."

I dismissed this thought. I know that over the course of the journey (how do I know when I arrive?), thoughts like this will be harder to disregard.

This morning, I will sit on my porch, let a Spring morning wash over me, before I have to get dressed and go and have a meeting with a Politician.

More about that tomorrow.

Have a great day everyone.

Day 8/9

It's May long weekend here in Canada, and we are celebrating Queen Victoria's birthday. This has always been bizarre for me, because back in 'Ol Blighty, I'm sure that most people would be hard pressed to even identify the correct month of Queen Victoria's birthday.
This weekend is also the unofficial start to summer (unless you live in one of the Prairie Provinces, where it is still possible to be buried under four feet of snow). This is why people don't get Canada!
Summer = Beer + Camping + Beer + chilled White Wine. Except not for me this year. Or ever.
Lovely people who are commenting on this blog and offering support - thank you! - will already know that I survived our first weekend camping completely alcohol free. And I am pleased with myself. I didn't feel that I was missing out, but I did have a pang, and an internal wrestle about what is to come...
My husband does drink. He does like expensive wine ( much more discerning palate than myself), and he and I have always talked about a holiday together, wandering around Northern California, the Napa Valley, sampling wine in those beautiful vineyards.
Last year, we went to England and France, and he was in seventh heaven, munching on exquisite cheese, and sipping fine French wine, so a return visit is definitely in our future.
In the past, every time I have contemplated giving up the booze, I have always bargained with myself - "except for our holidays..it wouldn't be fair if I spoiled the fun by drinking water.."
But, I suspect I was using this as an excuse to carry on my excessive ways. I realize now, that I have to re-frame experiences, both present and future, in my mind, as times that are enhanced just by being together, rather than drinking occasions.
I think of all the times when my husband has driven us home, with me half asleep, and heavily doused in wine, the times where he must have winced when I burbled nonsense and repeated myself, the times when he tried to dissuade me (to no avail) from making drunk phone calls....and I am making a promise to myself, to still go on these holidays with him, sip sparkling water.....and be his designated driver.

Day 7 - No Friday Night Blues...

I fully expected my First Friday Without Wine would be hard. But I distracted myself by puttering around in my greenhouse, cup of tea in hand, and then having an early night with a book.

I have to say that a Hangover FREE Saturday so far has been bloody fantastic. It's just about 2.00 o'clock in the afternoon, and it's a glorious sunny day. I have got so much done, and I feel great - I even caught myself whistling!

Such a contrast to last week, when I woke up with the usual queasy feeling in my stomach, feeling hot and sweaty, dry mouthed.....and I moved cautiously to figure out how bad I felt. At this point, even lying in bed doesn't help. Once upright, the headache usually kicks in - so horrified to read that the pain is from your DEHYDRATED BRAIN!. Stagger to the bathroom - pee (usually bright orange pee because of chronic dehydration) and then my only objective to get to the couch. Coffee tastes bitter, so I usually (then, not now), try to settle my stomach and re-hydrate a little with club soda.
Then I proceed to sit on the couch to about eleven in the morning, before finally getting the energy to have a shower.
How many hours, days and weeks have I wasted??

Well we are off for a night camping, and Before, my only concern would be to make sure we have enough wine. This morning, I have made salad, packed all we need for an evening meal, have fully prepared myself with a cooler full of soft drinks.

We are meeting friends. Camping in Canada usually means lots of alcohol around the camp fire. To distract myself, I am taking my really good camera (dusted off) to take pictures,as this is a new camping spot for us.

Fingers crossed I make it through.

Day 6 - First Challenges

I had a lovely productive day yesterday! I cleaned my oven , sorted paperwork, and worked on a proper plan for my business, and felt positive for the first time in a long time, that I will stick to it.
I took a cup of tea with me to my greenhouse, and re-potted seedlings ( a week ago I would have taken wine). I felt a little smug....."this isn't so hard....."
Then, Bam! the evening started to fall apart.
My sister in law turned up for a visit - no problem there, she doesn't drink.
Then, our neighbour turned up with a large glass of whisky for my husband, and a very large vodka for himself.
My husband also hasn't been drinking for the last few days, but I knew the time would come when he would want to drink. Yet, I felt fairly confident that it would be OK, he likes a couple of whiskys in the evening - I have never liked whisky (even though I would drink it after all the wine ran out sometimes).
As everyone sat and chatted, I fixated on my husband's whisky. I contemplated running out to get wine, so I could enjoy a drink too - I was so mad that I was missing out!
I willed my sister in law to leave, and my neighbour to leave so I could have a gulp of my husband's whisky! How messed up is that!
Eventually my sister in law left, I excused myself and put the kettle on. I made some peppermint tea, grabbed my kindle and went to bed and read. Re-read some of Jason Vale's words of wisdom, and felt better.
This morning, I am so relieved. But humbled.

Day Five - Booze Boobs

Day five, and I really thought I would be leaping out of bed, ready to face a shiny day. Instead, I felt a heavy weight pinning me down to the mattress. I eventually swung my legs over the side of the bed, and heaved my back into an upright position, and I caught sight of my naked body in a mirror (note to self - move the damn thing!).
And in a second, the phrase "Booze boobs' came to mind...... Originally used in her memoir "Cleaning Up: How I Gave Up Drinking and Lived", Tania Glyde describes her "booze boobs" - full and bloated and fatty, not perky and firm.....
Well, even given that I am middle aged, and gravity is a factor - I have two Medals of Booze Honour - Booze Boobs and Wine Belly. Never mind about my arse and thighs.

So WHY I have QUIT, reason number 2 - Weight Gain.

I recently read that one standard glass of wine contains 150 calories. Given that I was drinking one whole bottle (sometimes more) in a day, and a bottle is 7 standard servings, that means that I at least consumed 1050 extra calories a day. That's one extra meal.

So now I am 5"4, and weigh 174 lbs. I have no idea what my BMI is, I suspect too high. I can't fit into just about all of my clothes. Luckily, I work from home, so old stretchy jeans and baggy T-shirts do the trick most days.

Self grooming really has gone out the window. Even bending down to trim my toenails has become a chore.

Last Christmas, I bought myself a dress. It was a few sizes too small. I swore to myself that I would fit into it by July. The first few months of this year, I have cut out bread, rice and pasta, and started to eat far more salads....in the hope that I could keep my beloved wine....

But no more kidding myself.......July and polka-dotted dress....Here I come!

Day 4 Feel the Fear and Do it anyway.....

Anyone who is on this path of quitting booze, or even laying off it for awhile will agree with me that the ABSOLUTE BEST part, is the hangover free mornings! And now, I have had three in a row - and that feels pretty damn good.
But, it's so early, and I know (through my extensive research of other sober blogs, and the increasing literature out there), that there are hard times to follow - I am such a newbie!
So today, I am going to start a little mini-series of blogs dedicated to WHY and WHY NOW, I have decided to quit the wine for good....

Part 1 - FEAR!
Absolutely ABJECT TERROR of the damage and lasting consequences to my health if I carry on the way I have been. Just to put it into perspective, for any readers, and for myself, in black and white, this is how much I have been drinking per week....drum roll please....

Approximately 60 standard units of alcohol per week. That's quadruple Health Canada's recommended guidelines for a woman. QUADRUPLE!!

So, of course, I've known this for some time now, but until recently, the logical knowledge that I have been slowly killing myself hasn't been enough to make me quit.

So what changed? Well, three things that brought on my FEAR.....

1. I've been waking up in the middle of the night feeling weird pains and sensations in my arms and legs....and I have been imagining a blood clot, or a heart attack or a stroke....sometimes I have been frightened to go back to sleep in case I don't wake up

2. I have more nights than not, when I can't remember going to bed. I can't remember TV shows I watched, I can't remember telephone conversations I had, I can't remember conversations with my husband.....and it doesn't come back to me at all. Total blackouts!!

3. I recently read "Drinking - A Love Story" by the eloquent Caroline Knapp, and in one chapter, she describes a self - test she took from some National Alcoholics organization in the US. It's about 30 questions about drinking behaviour. If you say "yes' to any of the first eight questions, you are in the early stages of alcoholism (which can last ten to fifteen years), "yes' to any question from nine to about twenty - middle stages (which can last five years) and "yes" to any question after that.....final road to oblivion.

Suffice to say, I had to answer "yes' to a couple after question eight. If that didn't frickin sober me up, nothing will.

Well, I know this post is a little heavy - but I have to be reminded of my FEAR when I hit a breezy complacent place, and contemplate just one glass.....+

Day Three

Day Three. Day three is always the wobbly day. Day One is easy, usually because it’s Hangover Day – or should I say “ Motherfucker of a Hangover Day” rather than the usual “ Low level fuzziness which is my daily normal Hangover Day”.

Day Three usually follows Day Zero – overdrinking on a scale that means I sleep in an alcohol induced coma on the couch to about three o’clock in the morning – wake up feeling like shit, and then hastily check my phone to make sure I haven’t drunk texted, or facebooked anything stupid and embarrassing, then fall into bed, to try and get normal sleep, before my husband gets up with the sun.

Then comes Day 1 – aforementioned Motherfucker Hangover Day, and I try and act all breezy and normal, trying to hide the fact that coffee (second in line to my first love, wine) is causing my stomach to do flip flops. If I’m lucky, and I don’t have to do any damage control in cyber world, I just spend the day in general misery and self –loathing.

Day 2 – always way better. Coffee tastes good, I usually feel a little smug, the day can be fairly productive (for that read * get a couple of things done*), and I pat myself on the back, because I can, if I really try, make it past wine o’clock without cracking open a chilled bottle of white. Unless of course, my husband pours himself a whiskey, and then I get irrationally pissed that I am missing out, and drive down to the liquor store for the chilled white.

(Note – Somehow – and I am sure I will examine this at some point, I have managed to convince myself that drinking white wine – is not actually drinking….wtf??)

Then comes Day Three. It’s always the test. I feel like I have purged and cleansed for two days, and to reward myself, I contaminate my body – YET AGAIN – with a bottle of wine. Or two.

And, dear reader (at this point only me), that has been the pattern for at least ten years. Oh you fucking liar, more like twenty.

Why the change? No, I wasn’t checked into hospital, I didn’t kill anyone, I just felt like – I am always about a bottle away from achieving my potential – I never get there. I am SO CLOSE to building a truly awesome online business – then I have a couple of glasses of wine, and think, what the hell? I’ll write that tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.

Tomorrow HAS to be Day Four. No MORE Day Three’s.