When I think of all the good times I have wasted having good times.
Many years ago (beginning of the eighties) I was on holiday with a friend, accompanied by our respective girlfriends. Ten days in the sun on a Greek island. Our days consisted of getting up late around midday, going for a swim and having a shower − mostly to help with the hangover. Then lunch accompanied by beer that would mark the start to the day’s drinking. Night-time was all a blur − cocktail bars and discos. Our holidays could be described as a homage to alcohol. I was successful in my work with a high pressure job and drank alcohol most days. I justified my behaviour as “work hard -…
