The evils of drink (revisited)

After two evenings in which not a drop of alcohol passed my lips, last night I possibly had a beer, or two, too many, or too quickly. I didn't even notice that I was getting ridiculous drunk, at the time. It all started out mildly enough with a few slowly drunken beers interspersed with some water. I was even sober, unfortunately enough, while I heard the first set of selected lowlights of a friend's recent holiday from hell with her, now ex-, boyfriend. (I tried to be sympathetic and consoling, the former I almost managed the latter not so much. Which is not to say that I was/am unsympathetic, just that I'm not very good at displaying such emotions. I'd like to file it under British reserve, but emotional cripple may be closer to the mark.)

In fact it was all going well until the bar owner started drinking with me at about midnight. He'd been working until then, so he was pretty much sober at this point, whereas I was pleasantly merry. Regrettably, from that point I started matching him more or less beer for beer. Fast-forward a couple of hours and watch me stumble, almost gracefully, upstairs to my apartment. I was even sober enough to take of my clothes and brush my teeth.

These simple displays of sobriety were merely facades covering my underlying drunkenness. A fact I discovered this morning when I woke with the kind of hangover that wears a black hood over its head and stands on a wooden platform holding a noose. In fact all I did when I woke up, was to roll over and go back to sleep. I repeated this tactic a few times, until about twenty past twelve when my colleague, who yesterday I had mocked for taking the day off work, called me, on his way to work, asking if I'd gone for lunch yet. Sheepishly I had to admit that I was still at home, and that despite coming in after midday he was going to win today's round of who will get to the office first.

If I had a brain I would still be tucked up nice and warm in my bed. I don't and instead I'm staring bleary-eyed at my laptop trying to remember what work is.

Still give it a few more hours and I'm sure I'll be back in the bar.