Monday, 17 March 2014

so, so stupid

I can't be trusted to act like an adult, ever.  I spent yesterday dying a horrible, horrible, self-induced death ten times over.  The last two things I remember from the night before (the wedding after party) are swimming in the middle of a tropical cyclone (though the details of the swim are pretty hazy) and delivering a full bodied slap to someone's face (no idea who).  That last was part of a game, not malicious, but....still.

I am so, so ashamed of myself for not knowing my limits. 

If driving two and a half hours home over some of the windiest roads in New Zealand counts as punishment, well, then I've been well and truly punished.  But I'm still cracking a whip of self-flagellation and I still physically feel like shit over 36 hours later.  Just charming.  I carried plastic bags of puke + shame in the car on the way home, while P (god bless his compassionate and understanding heart) drove as carefully and smoothly as he could possibly manage.  We took an hour's breather at Thames.  I reclined the seat, swallowed the vomit and asked P to go eat outside, anywhere away from me. 

So, the wedding was lovely but I got carried away.  Awful, immature behaviour and I while I know my in-laws are amazing and very understanding I. Am. Mortified. 

I'm not typing this out of any sense of misplaced pride in my actions (trust me, there's no whoooo! such a kah-razy night! here.  More OH FUCK WHAT DID I DO AND WHYYYYYYY).  I am utterly ashamed and by god I mean to remember this lesson. 

Have I got a problem with the demon drink?  Judging by my performance, it would seem that there is a good chance.  I'm 31 for fuck's sake and I have had PLENTY of chances to learn my lesson.  Why I would get black out boozed is just...beyond me.  If you've got any material thoughts about this, plz to tell. 

Off to turn over a new leaf. 

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