let's play the "what do i regret most?" game

So let's have a gander back at the time that has elapsed since last Friday, and try to determine my biggest mistake...

Was it the "date"/meeting with a guy i've known for ages, which turned into one of the most hideously depressing events of my life?
Nope. Write that down to experience and misunderstanding.

Was it the copious amounts of gin that were consumed during and after the aforementioned soul-crushing self-esteem-shredding debacle?
Nope. By that point, in my emotional state, it was an option of drinking gin or lying in front of a bus. In retrospect, I'm very glad I went with the gin.

Was it trundling round the city with my family in a half-asleep delerium, and failing completely to properly take in the Myer windows?
Nah. Actually I have no regrets at all from Saturday. Remarkable!

Was it eating enormous amounts of food at Sunday lunch, and then going back for seconds?
No way! The food, courtesy of Lady Lili, was AMAZING. And frankly I've given up on losing weight this year. Christmas and weight-loss just don't mix. I will have a good hard look at my belly, and a good hard think about how to get rid of it, in the New Year.

Was it losing it completely halfway through playing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful"?
Nah. I think everyone was too drunk to notice my piano-fuck-up; they all just kept singing. Besides, I entirely blame Snazzles and Jelly, who distracted me with their primary-school-calibre hilarity ("Oh cum ye, oh cum ye" etc).

The multitudinous cigarettes?
Pish Posh. It's bad, I know, but they can be filed with the fatness issue under "things to deal with after New Years".

Thinking about my Mum and bawling my eyes out for a few minutes?
Nope. Having brilliant friends is all about having people to cuddle when you start irrationally crying while drunk. It doesn't happen often, but it's nice to know they're there if/when it does.

Pashing a straight-boy and at least one girl? (I know I snogged Mr Josh once and Mistress Corrie at least twice, but I honestly can't remember if anyone else was involved).
Hell no! Bring on the boozy pashing of friends!

Playing the "I've Never Ever" game, while shotting black vodka.
Okay the game was fine - I don't think I incriminated myself tooo badly. The black vodka was almost certainly a mistake... but it doesn't come close to the real biggie...

And the winner is... the champagne. When I was already drunker than I have been in YEARS, when there had already been a trip to the bottle-shop to get extra wine, when I had already imbibed the black vodka in the "I've Never Ever" game... it was THEN that we decided it would be a marvellous idea to open the champers. That, lovers and dreamers, is my biggest regret of the last 72 hours.

This morning I wasn't just hungover. To be hungover, you have to be alive. And human, probably. This morning, I was neither. I was some kind of groaning, hideous, red-eyed creature from the murky depths of Hell. It's not even an "I'm never drinking again" situation. It's more a "for the love of god I need to drink MORE. NOW. To kill the pain" situation. Then possibly an intravenous drip of Berocca and to sleep for about 2 months.

Oh 'tis an interesting time of year.

In the immortal words of Withnail: "I feel like a pig shat in my head".

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