Last night I was fully clothed. My dress didn’t ride up and expose half my bottom, probably because I was wearing jeans. I didn’t slump on a pavement, looking as if I was about to pass out, but then I was sitting in a chair. I didn’t throw up over my friend’s handbag, and I didn’t feel the world spinning. But I did have a drink. I had two big glasses of rioja and an Aperol spritz. If you haven’t tried it, you must. It’s a mix of prosecco and an aperitif made with orange, gentian and rhubarb, and it’s delicious.
I’m glad not to have been on the front pages of yesterday’s papers, but if they had wanted to illustrate the latest threat to the NHS, they might just as well have snapped me. They would have caught me sitting in my friend’s kitchen, chatting away to her nieces and nephews over baked risotto, Nigella’s flourless chocolate cake and fruit salad. Oh, and sipping Aperol spritz. Delicious, delicious Aperol spritz. And having a really lovely time.
Related: Harmful drinking among middle-class over-50s is a 'hidden phenomenon'
14 units of alcohol – you can get through that in a couple of nights. What are you supposed to do for the other five?
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