I wish I'd woken up in the gutter last night, soaked in my own vomit and piss.
I wish I'd been kicked out by my girlfriend for serial inebriation and cruelty.
I wish I'd found myself in some bizarre location, with unaccountable injuries and a pocketful of glass, not knowing how or why I'd got there...
Or in some police cell for trashing a pub and whacking a bargirl over the head with a wooden stool.
Instead I woke to the comforting afterglow of another "classic" drinking session.
And I'm still in love with my insidious killer.