After all, tomorrow is another day.
Thanks to verlaine and saucebook for the moral support and company last night, and to saucebook for introducing me to the most excellent Cuban bar in Camden where we chatted to a cute Greek barman named Angelo and drank the beauttiful coctails he made.
I was hammered within an inch of my life after two of the concotions but my alchohol incapacity is hardly a novelty now and I'd had three drinks before that. Walking in straight lines is hard enough to achieve for me when I'm sober, so I was just happy I was able to put one foot in the other in the correct direction.
My misadventure of the night was managing to get locked in the toilets. After about of five minutes of trying to fiddle with the lock, I calmed myself down with the thought that eventually even if I didn't find a way to manage to get myself free saucebook would probably come looking for me and I'd plead for rescue. The opening under the door was too narrow for me to crawl under (probably fortuitous, extended contact with toilet floors is not something I'm particularly keen on), so I tried climbing on top of the toilet and attempting to climb over the toilet stall. This was also doomed to failure as I was really rather tipsy and the top of the stall door seemed to have an awfully high drop down so I put it aside as Plan B. Tried climbing over the toilet into the next stall instead but gave up that notion when I saw the state of that loo and went back to trying to fiddle with the lock. And after about five more minutes of bashing the loo door with my shoulder (fortuitously anesthetised by all the ethanol already in my system) it gave and I was free! Hurray. So I merrily skipped on down the stairs and drank coctails to celebrate.
Getting blindingly drunk had been exactly what the doctor ordered and by the end of the night I was feeling thoroughly uplifted and in excellent spirits.
today
I was just sober enough to not attempt to do anything foolish like put together the futon sofa currently still in component parts in my room, and instead snagged some blankets and passed out on the living room floor. My general state of bliss was only deepened by the fact that my boss had ordered me not to come into work today so I could catch up on my sleep which is what I have joyously been doing for the past 11 hours.
Hurray! A lovely, lovely, lovely night!
I'm feeling all refreshed and ready to tackle the assemblage of my future bed, and all excited about the Nick Cave concert @ Brixton Academy tonight. I'm listening to the Curse of Millhaven in preparation and the only downside to all this debauchery is that my NaNo count is looking all forlorn and dejected at 15k and may well be doomed to languish there because next few days are going to be rather horribly busy and people are starting to get slightly offended by all the death threats I fling at them each time I try to write and they interrupt me so I may give up writing for a bit before actual heads start rolling.
I was hammered within an inch of my life after two of the concotions but my alchohol incapacity is hardly a novelty now and I'd had three drinks before that. Walking in straight lines is hard enough to achieve for me when I'm sober, so I was just happy I was able to put one foot in the other in the correct direction.
My misadventure of the night was managing to get locked in the toilets. After about of five minutes of trying to fiddle with the lock, I calmed myself down with the thought that eventually even if I didn't find a way to manage to get myself free saucebook would probably come looking for me and I'd plead for rescue. The opening under the door was too narrow for me to crawl under (probably fortuitous, extended contact with toilet floors is not something I'm particularly keen on), so I tried climbing on top of the toilet and attempting to climb over the toilet stall. This was also doomed to failure as I was really rather tipsy and the top of the stall door seemed to have an awfully high drop down so I put it aside as Plan B. Tried climbing over the toilet into the next stall instead but gave up that notion when I saw the state of that loo and went back to trying to fiddle with the lock. And after about five more minutes of bashing the loo door with my shoulder (fortuitously anesthetised by all the ethanol already in my system) it gave and I was free! Hurray. So I merrily skipped on down the stairs and drank coctails to celebrate.
Getting blindingly drunk had been exactly what the doctor ordered and by the end of the night I was feeling thoroughly uplifted and in excellent spirits.
today
I was just sober enough to not attempt to do anything foolish like put together the futon sofa currently still in component parts in my room, and instead snagged some blankets and passed out on the living room floor. My general state of bliss was only deepened by the fact that my boss had ordered me not to come into work today so I could catch up on my sleep which is what I have joyously been doing for the past 11 hours.
Hurray! A lovely, lovely, lovely night!
I'm feeling all refreshed and ready to tackle the assemblage of my future bed, and all excited about the Nick Cave concert @ Brixton Academy tonight. I'm listening to the Curse of Millhaven in preparation and the only downside to all this debauchery is that my NaNo count is looking all forlorn and dejected at 15k and may well be doomed to languish there because next few days are going to be rather horribly busy and people are starting to get slightly offended by all the death threats I fling at them each time I try to write and they interrupt me so I may give up writing for a bit before actual heads start rolling.