A morning after

I felt rather toxic this morning: it's strange what a couple of beers will do to you. Well, it's horrible what a couple of filthy cheap beers will do to your morning after, and it's annoying what two cheap beers will do to your wallet when they cost $15 each. $15 for a horrible drink when I should have been drinking decent cocktails somewhere else for pretty much the same price. Then again, a gin hangover can be as bad as a beer one, and a hangover on two beers is scarcely worth the name. I should just blame feeling lousy and dehydrated on being - well, lousy and dehydrated.

I still got out and ran, just a couple of clicks, and that did mean I was awake by the time I got to the office, rather than slumped over my desk, devoid of energy and hope. I hadn't really managed breakfast beyond a rather-too-powerful cup of coffee, so when I got home for lunch I was feeling a little bit lightheaded.

I'm trying to do the 100 press ups challenge, and according to the schedule before I had anything to eat I had to grind out 57 press ups. This was harder than I expected, because my wife was sat on the sofa, on Skype and on my case. Every sardonic comment made me laugh, and you can't do press ups if you're laughing.

You also can't laugh if you're doubled up on the floor with your abdominal muscles burning. All those press ups turned me into a fumbling wreck capable only of swearing feebly, until I had a bowl of lifegiving soup and then marched back to the office. It's a good life if you don't weaken.

After the combination of pain and soup, the afternoon was a pallid facsimile of the morning. The morning had been pretty woeful so it was fairly shameful that the afternoon couldn't live up to that low standard. I ate too many biscuits, manhandled a database into some semblence of order, and eventually retreated when I'd done enough damage for the day / justified my continuing existence, depending on your point of view.

I stayed off the booze tonight: it seemed like what the universe wanted.