What to say, what to say. This thing you call gin still intrigues me. I really didn't intend to drink last night, either. A friend who is leaving for the UK in a few days invited me to join her for a drink when I finished work. She said, in her message, that the boys were trying to get her drunk, so I knew I'd be watching her and the Rock DJ kissing for what remained of the night. I went anyway, because I'm stupid, and because I can't complain about not getting invited to her going away party if I don't go to what little I am invited to.
Early on, I went to the bar to get more water for our little drunken friend (because they were all well underway by the time I arrived), and when I came back one of the boys had put a pint of guinness and a shot of gin in front of me.
I was smart enough not to depth charge it. I wasn't smart enough to refuse them. But...that happens. I kept myself to a limit, which is more than anyone else did (bar the sober driver(1)).
Gin. Gin gin gin. Fascinating.
He is a maths geek, or claims to be. Maybe he would understand a Venn diagram better than me repeatedly telling him that he's making me feel like crap lately.
Poll Diagrammatic Ponderings On the bright side, I'm having lunch with Fractal today. So. Breathe. It's all okay. People have started all answering my messages. I do appear to still exist. Hurrah!
(1) Hehe. I said 'bar'.