Is it wine o’clock yet?

From time to time I have be known to go off on tangents regarding health practices; high doses of fish oil for the family until we were all whiffier than the Bli Bli Big Fish Farm, bucketloads of high potency Vitamin B until we were up all night pinging and burping on that good gear, Ginger Extract that had to be kept cold at all times or it lost it’s effects (apparently), Sea Minerals, Selenium, Chlorophyll, Probiotics.  You name it, I’ve probably done it.  Other than green smoothies.  Don’t get me started on those things. I think I have made it clear I will not drink anything green unless it contains Midori, or at a pinch, Creme de Menthe (Hello Mint Slice, you old friend of 70’s dinner parties and fun in a glass).

My latest is acai. I know, I know, acai berries have been and gone, but I’m still into ’em.  Mostly, I suspect, because the brand I buy comes in a fancy wine bottle.  I shit you not, it looks like a schmick bottle of vino, and in fact, it actually costs more than most of the squashed grapes that we imbibe around here.

I keep mine in the fridge, so it’s icy cold when I have it in the morning, and I imagine I’m kicking back in some tropical paradise when I slurp that baby down.  Some days I have it in a shot glass, some days a wine glass.  I have even been known to have it in the Royal Doulton champagne glasses when I’m feeling particularly fancy.

But it is the vessel in which it comes, the wine bottle, that was my undoing today, as you shall soon see.

 

We were a bit under the pump here this morning.  It was the last day of school, and there was a multitude of things to remember to do and to have, and today was also the day that I decided that I would get ALL OF THE THINGS DONE, so I wouldn’t have to do them with the brat-bags next week.  As well as that, today was the day I decided that I would get fit, which means it took me longer to get ready, because, as we all know, if you want to get fit, you need to look fit first.  Even though my planned exercise was running on the treadmill in my own hotter-than-the-butterfly-enclosure-at-Melbourne-zoo-when-you-have-a-panic-attack-because:FLYING THINGS-garage.  I needed to look hot, and I don’t mean my temp.

I may* have also been distracted by the internets a little bit too.

So it transpired that there was to be no fake, slowly sipping on a berry-colada, dose of acai today, it was down the hatch or not at all.  It will make my Mother’s bottom prickle to read this, but, shockingly, I decided to drink straight from the bottle.

I was over at the sink at the time of this infraction, head back, gullet open.  A bit like those good ol’ lay-backs we used to do at the bar of Brat Pack, way over yonder in the late 80’s when we called Tequilla “ToKillYa” and thought it was funny, cos it didn’t.  (And now it does.)

Our kitchen window overlooks our sideway, and lines up pretty much with our neighbour’s kitchen window.  As I wiped the berry residue of my acai-slammer from my lips, I got that feeling that someone was watching me.  I looked into my neighbour’s joint, and I could see him standing there, head turned, eyes averted.  I can just imagine him saying in his head, “I will not look at that lush, I will not let her see me seeing her swing from a wine bottle at 6am, oh those poor children, oh hang on, the children probably caused it.”

Of course him looking away and pretending not to see, has made it worse, because now, how will I bring it up?

Me: Oh hey, you know how you saw me drinking wine straight from a bottle at 6am on a Wednesday? Well that wasn’t really wine, it was my vitamins.  Special vitamins.  You haven’t seen them ‘cos they aren’t in shops.  I get them delivered.

Him: Okaaay, sure, I didn’t see anything, but okay, vitamins, in a wine bottle. Cool.

 

So yeah, I’m looking forward to the Street Christmas Party this year.  Shouldn’t be awkward at all.

I’ll be the one on the acai.

 

 

*My twitter feed has been particularly stabby today, so I was voyeuring around the joint, as well as checking checking to see if any of you had read my blog yet.

 

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