Binge Drinking is Bad
Well here I go again - seeing how quickly I can bring about liver failure or shame myself to death (if such a thing is possible - I think it is). Went to Dion's house-warming in the Heathrow-direction on Saturday night. As I have come to expect of Dion, his flat is nothing short of super-swanky, with wi-fi radiators (???) et al, and, as always, a fine array of malt whiskeys on offer. Naturally it was my job to try everything, several times, and then settle my stomach with a glass of port at the end. Whyyyy? Think I would have survived, if I had have caught the last train home, but I just could not face pitching up at Waterloo, and then trying to work out which combination of freak-filled night buses would get me back to E17 in the early hours. So, with no time-limit set, me and Dion sat up and drank a bit more. And then I fell asleep on Dion's sofa. And then I probably dribbled a bit on it. And then Dion ordered me to the spare room, where I could happily fall into a coma.
One of the worst things about drinking too much is that hideous false hope you get, when you wake up feeling a little bit trembly but basically okay, so merrily go about tidying the place a little, drinking a cup of tea, eating a banana, and setting off for the marathon train/tube journey home. And then, and only then, it suddenly hits, when you're stuck on the noisy, stuffy, icky Victoria line for 45 minutes. I was literally doubled over (as this was the least nauseating of positions) waiting for the end of the line. I did manage to make it off the train (though past Tottenham Hale it was looking very ropey) but needless to say I didn't make it home, before the night's sins revisited. Ugg. I'm a binge-drinking old hag. How depressing. The worst of it being, it's the people I would most prefer not to see me as such a tragic lush, that I get f***ed in front of.
Sadly (for my hungover self) I had already promised to meet Didcot and Schwesty to watch the mighty 'ding down the pub, followed by Mrs Pedro's birthday do, also down the pub, so I staggered my miserable un-washed uncouth self to these events, barely capable of speech, and with a face like a slapped arse. When I feel like that, and think about the oh-so-together Naz and Boo and Dion, I want to disappear into a gigantic hole. And then I get over the hideous hang-over, and the unattractive self-pity, promise myself I won't drink that much again, and but a month later, repeat it all over again like the utter plank I am.
One of the worst things about drinking too much is that hideous false hope you get, when you wake up feeling a little bit trembly but basically okay, so merrily go about tidying the place a little, drinking a cup of tea, eating a banana, and setting off for the marathon train/tube journey home. And then, and only then, it suddenly hits, when you're stuck on the noisy, stuffy, icky Victoria line for 45 minutes. I was literally doubled over (as this was the least nauseating of positions) waiting for the end of the line. I did manage to make it off the train (though past Tottenham Hale it was looking very ropey) but needless to say I didn't make it home, before the night's sins revisited. Ugg. I'm a binge-drinking old hag. How depressing. The worst of it being, it's the people I would most prefer not to see me as such a tragic lush, that I get f***ed in front of.
Sadly (for my hungover self) I had already promised to meet Didcot and Schwesty to watch the mighty 'ding down the pub, followed by Mrs Pedro's birthday do, also down the pub, so I staggered my miserable un-washed uncouth self to these events, barely capable of speech, and with a face like a slapped arse. When I feel like that, and think about the oh-so-together Naz and Boo and Dion, I want to disappear into a gigantic hole. And then I get over the hideous hang-over, and the unattractive self-pity, promise myself I won't drink that much again, and but a month later, repeat it all over again like the utter plank I am.
posted by TheMightyDing at 16:44
1 Comments:
been there too and it ain't pretty. at least you didn't go as far as me in the vowing off alcohol. have decided to do a detox, it is day 1 and i feel like crap plus had steak for tea so already blown it.
must try harder tomorrow!
Post a Comment
<< Home