I'm really, really not...
A girl in my office is leaving today so we're going for drinks after work. The last time we went out I said beforehand that I'd go along for a few drinks, but that I wouldn't be out late (considering my tolerance of alcohol equates to the tolerance of my fiance for shopping).
Needless to say I stumbled home at midnight after many, many cocktails and one or two shots thrown in for good measure. I just about managed to remove my make-up, clothes and the bag of chips I had procured from somewhere, before falling into bed. I then woke up the following day with a raging hangover, and spent most of the day whimpering and trying not to move my head.
NOT THIS TIME.
It is under three weeks until we have to move out of the flat, and we haven't packed so much as a cup. Tomorrow, it's going to be Packing City in my flat.
I cannot do this with a hangover.
I WILL BE GOOD.
I WILL I WILL I WILL.
Update to follow.
Needless to say I stumbled home at midnight after many, many cocktails and one or two shots thrown in for good measure. I just about managed to remove my make-up, clothes and the bag of chips I had procured from somewhere, before falling into bed. I then woke up the following day with a raging hangover, and spent most of the day whimpering and trying not to move my head.
NOT THIS TIME.
It is under three weeks until we have to move out of the flat, and we haven't packed so much as a cup. Tomorrow, it's going to be Packing City in my flat.
I cannot do this with a hangover.
I WILL BE GOOD.
I WILL I WILL I WILL.
Update to follow.
This entry was posted
on Friday, July 07, 2006 at 4:51 pm.
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