Friday, June 01, 2007

Bright eyed and bushy tailed

I love the day after a hangover. It feels like the world's been put to rights again, anything's possible and fun's inevitable. I was in the horrors yesterday. Had a meeting with my soon-to-be-fellow cyclists on Wednesday afternoon, then bonded over a pint. And then another. And then some wine, and so on and so forth til it was time to go home because the tattooed lady behind the bar told me so. As I tripped the light fantastic all the way back to the flat I thought, "hey, these people, they're nice. This cycling lark could be fun!" When I woke at 5am with a hangover so scaldy I thought I was having a stroke, I wasn't so convinced.

I had a disastrous day in work, bumbling retardedly through the day. Things worsened at 5pm though when I decided to meet my mam, as arranged, for a spot of shopping. We're off to a wedding in Italy soon and need to look presentable for it. And not only for the ceremony, but for the entire 4 days. Horror. There's only so long I can feign respectability for, and 4 days far exceeds any of my previous attempts. Anyway, never go shopping with a hangover. Or with your mam. I got home at 9pm, with a horrible dress and a lump in my throat so glad was I to see the couch.

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