A little bit wobbly

Today I reaped the whirlwind that I'd sown last night, the seeds of all those gin and tonics turning into a feeling of terror at the world and confusion at being awake. As punishment for my alcoholic idiocy, I went running without any energy drink. Well, either punishment, or worries that the residual booze and sports drink would meld in my stomach into some sort of Frankensteinian horror.

I got back from my run to discover that I'd missed the deadline to pick up my race number for next week's 10k. This was annoying because I'd paid $30, but on the other hand I need to run 22k next weekend, not ten, and although I've missed out on another vest with a logo on it, there's not exactly a paucity of athletic tops in my wardrobe.

All morning, at a loose end, I ate and ate and ate, and then all afternoon I tried to figure out how to get my beard trimmed. There's no barbers in Singapore that seem to want to do this; there's hair restoration services, but I don't think that will hit the spot. Baffled and confused, I ate a Kit-Kat ice cream (gobsmackingly revolting) and then passed out cold for a few hours, until my wife woke me up to eat cheese.

Yes, I've got another big run tomorrow, and since I seem to perform best on an all-cheese diet, I had a fist of mozzarella cheese at an Italian restaurant and then came back to watch Casino Royale and then go to sleep. Saturday night is alright for watching fighting, like Elton John would say.