1. I had reached about six times for the same can of coke I was convinced was on my bedside table, and wasn't.
2. I really really really really reeeeeally didn't want to have to get up.
3. I most definitely, absolutely and utterly should NOT have aided and abetted in the sourcing of that third bottle of wine last night...
Oh my god, my head was spinning, I was exhausted and I was on the receiving end of a large amount of mockery from my oh so thoughtful husband who was finding my then state incredibly funny. Upon asking why I was getting so much abuse I was told that I had (apparently) said I would be home by around nine and was quite happy if he then wanted to shove off to the pub for a couple. I got home around half midnight last night, so I don't think he got the chance for the pub... Yes I can understand his irritation, but he is also very well aware of my habit of stopping "for a quick drink" on the way home and rocking in gone midnight. He also, in fairness, should be knowledgeable enough of his own wife to be able to tell how drunk I am on the phone... Though in his defence I have been told on many occasions that I am known for sounding completely sober when actually being catatonicly wasted at the same time, so maybe I can't have a go at him too much for that one.
Ah well, I apologised and promised that I would babysit at some point soon so he could go out and it would make it up to him. Husband thusly satisfied I went to grab a shower and get ready for work. This is harder than you'd imagine really whilst still having the debate with yourself as to whether or not you're actually still drunk or if you're just reeeeeeally hanging!
I struggled through my morning routine and finally emerged victorious by the bus stop, which I have been seeing far too much of lately! I think my diet plan sits quietly crying in a corner on nights like last night! The Surrey bus service being it's usual helpful self it naturally provided a bus for me, albeit fifteen minutes late meaning I missed my train. Oh well, another along in ten minutes so I'm not overly bothered at that point. Until I get on the train, my mobile rings and I'm helpfully informed that there are NO tubes leaving from Waterloo. Oh wonderful, obviously this could never happen on a day where I'm less inclined to scream (if the noise wouldn't hurt my head) and run around mentally toting a gun!
Apparently London Underground was prewarned to my sunny demeanour as they had the damn things up and running again by the time I reached Waterloo! So having collected the friend who'd waited for me after reporting the lack of tubes, grabbed a really healthy breakfast of a bacon roll (yes the extornionate ones, this was an emergency) and a toffee muffin and walked up to the office I finally reached my desk. Blood shot eyes, tired expression and a slight difficulty concentrating, why did I think this wouldn't happen last night when happily guzzling red wine? That's it, I shall never do this again. Never again will the decision of school night drinking pass unimpeded through the "nothing to declare" section of my brain!
Hmm, I'm out for dinner with some girlfriends tonight... Oh well, one more can't hurt... right...?
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