You may be aware that Friday was a trying day, particularly if you read my last blog post, which was all about how trying the day was. I was feeling pretty deflated by the end of the day and was tossing up whether or not to head to our usual Friday night pub dinner.
A girlfriend messaged me urging me to come with them, and have a drink to wash away the cares of the day. I spoke to J on the phone who agreed that yeah, we should head out and not let our difficult days get to us. Cool.
So, we went and met up with our friends and their toddler, the gorgeous Mr L. The kids were pretty good to begin with but H hadn't had her best day and soon enough started getting pretty ratty. Then the million decibel shrieking started (this is a new thing - whenever she doesn't get her way she shrieks, at the top of her lungs, without breathing, which is about as effective as it sounds (very)). J decided to take her outside for a play, at which point I sculled my remaining second glass of red.
A minute later, the familiar screaming of my own child was approaching. Poor H had had a massive stack and was bleeding from the mouth, like, a LOT. She had chipped her front tooth. Her beautiful tooth...her beautiful face...well, I still can't go there. I'll devote another post to that. This is about my hangover.
Anyway, you can see where this is headed. As the dinner wrapped up and the boys packed the kids into the cars, I turned to my lovely friend S in desperation.
"Do you want to stay for one more drink?"
She JUMPED at the chance, which I later found out was because she, too, had been having a tough few weeks. There was just TOO MUCH to talk about. And the staff at this particular pub offer table service, so every time they cleared away our glasses it was a case of "Two more, please".
Now, I have no idea how much we drank. All I know is I BOUGHT two CIGARETTES off a German chef before we bounded happily towards home, and someone (I'm looking at you Miss S!) suggested stopping off at ANOTHER pub for a CHAMPAGNE?! I have to be totally clear, I NEVER binge drink these days and I certainly never have a champagne after god knows how many glasses of wine. This was a bad, BAD decision.
I know we had that champagne but I remember nothing else. I know nothing of getting home, only what my sister, who I apparently called five times, has relayed to me of our conversations. I know we got a cab, when we were a few hundred metres from our respective houses. I know my husband has videoed me having a particularly ridiculous conversation with him that I can't recall. And I know how I felt the next day.
BLOODY RUBBISH.
I have never, NEVER, had a hangover that bad. I literally could not get out of bed, until about 1pm. This is so unlike me. I'm usually up at seven and ready for a cooked breakfast. I couldn't EAT. I couldn't ROLL OVER because it felt like fifty gnomes were aiming ice picks at my brain. I couldn't drink. I couldn't hear the words "eat" or "drink" without dry reaching.
At midday I received a text from S. "Feel like I'm dying."
Replied, "Never felt this bad."
She replid, "Can't stop vomiting."
Were our drinks spiked?! What went wrong? We were having so much fun! I am a seasoned drinker of old - have I lost it? It's certainly been a loooong time since I drank that much, but I thought I could handle it.
One thing we can both agree on is NEVER AGAIN. Funnily enough I have babysitters lined up for the next two weekends (woohoo!) for my best mate and then my own birthday celebrations. I'm considering DRIVING to my friend's birthday (unheard of!) and will stop at three or four at my own, I swear. I have learnt a hard lesson. I promised the God I'm not sure if I believe in that if I got through Saturday I would NEVER do this to myself again and I swear, I won't. I SWEAR!!!!!
Until I do.
What's the worst hangover you ever had? Did it put you off for a loooooooong time?
Z xx
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