The reason this wasn’t posted yesterday was that I was fuckered. Buggered. With the worst hangover I’ve ever had
It was also the most disproportionate hangover I’ve ever had. Easily distracted barman free-poured me a massive whiskey – distracting himself by chatting inanely over his shoulder to me.
On top of this (and food I should add) was a couple of quiet pints (verging on a ‘few’, but only just). Bed before midnight should have ensured no more than a fuzzy head.
Made it to work with a headache which developed into the inability to keep my eyes open or food down – I imagined any manner of scam to get me out of jail free and go directly to bed.
No amount of this made any difference:
(Thanks to workmates all the same).
I still can’t accept the fact that it was a hangover. I’d told the work buddies I probably wouldn’t make it out to the pool hall – assuming I had some kind of shocking illness, but that I’d rest up a bit and see how I felt.
I ate a bowl of cereal and then slept for half an hour at home. Smoked a cigarette and felt okay. Showered and with some element of disbelief in the fact the weetabix hadn’t gushed back up, left for the pool.
Now here’s what I don’t get. I had five large bottles of beer and at least four spiced rum & cokes. I ate some indeterminable amount of greasy finger food, played some okay pool (even better the more drunk I got) had a good laugh and didn’t get home until half three in the morning.
I wake up at ten this morning. Peachy. No sign of headache, stomach upset or even a dry mouth.
Life On Mars? 