Poisoned - or not

Today I have a hangover. One of the horrors of turning thirty was the realisation that alcohol was a deathly toxin, rather than a necessary adjunct to a normal night out. What is even more depressing is the knowledge that I feel this ill for drinking perhaps three glasses of champagne and a few glasses of red. Sigh. Still it’s nothing that a take-out box of Nachos Grande, a can of Coke and a handful of Solpadeine can’t cure.

Then H rang on Skype from Amman and pointed out in his usual intelligent manner that of course I was ill. The ‘few glasses’ I had just described drinking actually came to well over a standard bottle of wine, consumed on a practically empty stomach. So I feel a little less old, and just a little more stupid now.

But oof, I have two parties tonight, and then two more things every night until Sunday. I think I may be sticking to water from now on.