Wednesday, March 23, 2005


I'm not drinking again. Went out last night for my college daughter's 27th birthday, and drank beer in the Bunker bar in Covent Garden.

Nice place. Shame the last time the beer pipes were cleaned was four years ago. Drank about five pints on an empty stomach then went back to Charing Cross, met a homosexual lawyer from Orpington and a camp Australian, then stormed home.

Woke up this morning, feeling like death, overheated and all. Then had to run 6 miles in the rain, in a t-shirt. Fun fun fun.

But it's not all unalloyed joy. Haven't had a hot meal in three days. Have drawn a rather scary graph though : here...

From a day or two's perspective, hangovers aren't all bad. They do damp down your senstivity to the world, which can only be a boon when you return to the office to find everyone going berserk, while you lack the energy to get upset about anything. I'm pretty sure that was a localised phenomenon - having tried going to work on consecutive hungover days the benefit tends to zero pretty fast...


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