Slipped last night. I didn't keep to the limits of the new alcohol regime.
Quite by accident. I reached my limit, went downstairs for a near beer, and opened up an actual beer by mistake. ['Mistake, hmm?' -- Freud.] I could have poured it down the sink, or I could have drank it. So I drank it. Guiltily.
So -- yeah. Not good. But also not the worst thing, honestly. It proved my idea that my tolerance is way down, and that exceeding my new limit is a bad idea. Plus the guilt. So much guilt. It wasn't pleasurable at all (at first).
I also engaged in some poor decision making. Nothing major, pretty harmless, but 11:30 at night is not the time to start painting things in the basement.
A pretty minor slip, but still a slip. And perhaps having a slip is cause for greater awareness not to slip -- sort of an inoculation.
The subconscious desire is still there, though. And it was fun, once I forgot about the guilt.