Friday, February 06, 2004
I have a bump on my head. I can’t remember the last time I had an Unidentified Drinking Injury.
I should have known when we left our regular Thursday night haunt that it was time to stop; “Why are we paying for four bottles of wine when we only had two?” I asked. “Actually, I think we may have had all four” came the reply. When it was suggested we carry on (why does somebody always know “..this nice little bar near me that’s open late...”?) I rather foolishly gave the plan my approval.
And that is how I came to be teaching this morning with a chronic hangover and a pair of oily hands, the latter the result of trying, drunkenly, to replace the chain on my bike when I fell off on the way home from our adventures. My friends (!) laughed and stumbled on.
An then, as I sat on the bus on my way to the lesson this morning, I stared out of the window at the heavy fog which seemed to reflect my blurred state of mind; Thomas Hardy would’ve been impressed.
I should have known when we left our regular Thursday night haunt that it was time to stop; “Why are we paying for four bottles of wine when we only had two?” I asked. “Actually, I think we may have had all four” came the reply. When it was suggested we carry on (why does somebody always know “..this nice little bar near me that’s open late...”?) I rather foolishly gave the plan my approval.
And that is how I came to be teaching this morning with a chronic hangover and a pair of oily hands, the latter the result of trying, drunkenly, to replace the chain on my bike when I fell off on the way home from our adventures. My friends (!) laughed and stumbled on.
An then, as I sat on the bus on my way to the lesson this morning, I stared out of the window at the heavy fog which seemed to reflect my blurred state of mind; Thomas Hardy would’ve been impressed.
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