Pity me

I am hungover.

I had genuinely forgotten what this feeling was like, the vague waves of nausea that wash over you, the continuous feeling that I'm slightly off-balance as if I'm journeying through a fun fair fun house even though I'm sitting down, the cold dead look my eyes get that, and the sallowness of my skin. I knew I didn't like being hungover and now I remember why.

The positive thing is that I have evaded the grump monster who was controlling my thoughts and actions over the last couple of weeks. I could say that my brother's motorbike crash on Monday (he's fine, has a load of owies that my nephew thinks is HILARIOUS to slap - it is - but other than that, fine) making me realise that some things in life are never certain and you should enjoy yourslef while you have the chance blah blah pop psychology etc. but, in truth I just woke up on Monday feeling in a really good mood. Positive, excited about the future even. Just cleansed of all the anger I was holding on to. It's nice. My baggage feels lighter. Makes it easier to twirl and swirl about the place should I so wish (I rarely wish. Unless I'm listening to Fergie in which case, different story). Well, except for today, because I am hungover. Today I can barely stir my tea let alone swirl. Which reminds me, I've just realised that I won't stir tea with a teaspoon that's been recently washed up because that teaspoon is 'wet'. I'm a few months shy of 27 and it's only just occurred to me just how counterintuitive that is. I don't think I'll change this compulsion but at least I know how weird it is now. Admitting you have a problem is the first step as they say.