So, with one thing and another going on in my life lately, I have spent a lot of time thinking about my relationship with wine.  I love wine.  Absolutely love it.  Beer is refreshing, Guinness lovely, spirits fun, cocktails wicked: but wine standas alone.  It is my nectar, my tonic, my beloved.  Take a fun, relaxing meal, and add a glass of good wine and the colours deepen, the scents heighten, and happiness reigns. When I’m not drinking wine (when I’m the designated driver, for example), I find myself compulsively reaching for the wineglass that isn’t there.

But I am learning there are disadvantages to drinking, which I desperately want to close my eyes to: I want, so badly, for there to be no disadvantage or negative association with drinking wine, because I love it so. Finally, I’ve had to look myself in the face and admit a troubling fact.  Wine makes it hard for me to sleep. Going to sleep is easy, but I inevitably wake up in the middle of the night, alert as anything, and then have to try and wrestle myself back to sleep.  My understanding is that it’s sort of like whiplash insomnia: once the depressive effect of alcohol begins to wear off, the body finds itself overstimulated and wakes up — it’s as though the body has been stimulating itself (stop that sniggering) in order to counteract the depressive effect of alcohol, and then the depressive effect wears off and the stimulating effect takes a while to catch on.  This is purely my hunch, and, as you have probaby worked out, I’m no biologist — look it up yourself if you’re serious.  Anyway, this theory has been confirmed through a series of alcohol-free days, alcohol-indulgent days and corresponding sleep responses. There’s no way around it: if I drink a few glasses of wine, or drink too close to bedtime, I sleep badly.  This bothers me enormously, probably more than it really needs to.  I would far prefer that my love for wine only had beneficial effects.

But like any good relationship, eventually you have to acknowledge that your beloved may have some slight imperfections, and it is a sign of maturity (I tell myself) that you can face those imperfections and accept them.  And I think the sleeping thing is the kind of disadvantage I can work around.  A limit of only two glasses per evening, regular wine-free days (oh, the longing!) and no drinks after 8pm will certainly go a long way in allowing wine and I to continue our happy and long relationship as we grow.  Aw, isn’t that lovely?  I feel all warm and shirazzy inside.