Work: The Curse of the Drinking Class

I live, technically, alone. I have a cat, lots of friends, and a Boyfriend. And you will usually find me moaning that I don't like being alone, that I want some company.

But not tonight. Tonight is one of those times when I'm relieved that there is nobody here to care for but me, and Bijou. She's easy - splorp her food onto a dish and set it down outside, so she can dine al fresco this evening. After all, she was stuck inside this whole fine day while I was at work.

Me, I'm having crackers, cheese, and some antipasto out of a jar while I watch the Blue Jays... and water to drink.

Today, you see, is the proverbial "morning-after-the-night-before."

Yesterday I had my pal Mr. P over for the evening. Mr. P picked up dinner and a bottle of wine while I had a quick shower, dressed in my jeans, and dragged my open bottle of wine with me outside while I waited for his return. When he did come back, food and more wine in hand, we proceeded to down the wine with dinner. I am not known for my, er, moderation...

We watched an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise, then I made tea and we had, unfortunately, cake.

Queen Elizabeth cake, for those of you in the know.

For those you not in the know, the batter is made with dates - lots of 'em. They're sweet, they're heavy, they're scrumptious. And the icing is a brown sugar and coconut affair.

It's r e a l l y sweet, perfect for a couple of Brit-twits like P and me.

And one good piece deserved another.

So, we sat and watched a second episode of Enterprise, and ate our two pieces of cake apiece, and downed our tea. By 9:15 we'd seen our two episodes and felt like two beached whales. We "chatted" a bit: namely, moaned and groaned our way through our stuffed throats, till suddenly I heard Mr. P say "Are you snoring?" I denied it. But the next thing I knew, Mr. P was letting himself out. At some point in the middle of the night I got up and brushed my teeth and removed some of the more uncomfortable items of my clothing. At some later point I walked the floor for about an hour, desperately trying not to begin a session of worship at the foot of the Great White Throne. The worst finally subsided and I was able to lie down again, using two pillows, mind you, and that was it till 6:40 a.m. this morning.

Oddly, (or not) I wasn't very hungry today...

Sugar and alcohol, it seems, is a very nasty combination. That being said, it was pretty dumb of me to have a bottle and a half, even with a friend helping me out. Alcohol is a depressant - the LAST thing I need! Especially in that kind of quantity.

So, while tonight's dinner isn't quite "bread and water", it's water, anyway. And no sugar. And a very small quantity of food. Less, in fact, than is sitting on Bijou's plate.

A nice early night, and I ought to be back in fine running order tomorrow. Tough-as-nails, jokes flying, poking fun at the world once more. Relieved to be alive.