In the Thick of It

Last week wasn't an easy one for me.

I discovered 1920s style personal hygiene due to the total absence of water in my house, decided it was crap and went round to an unaffected friend's house to borrow their shower in exchange for some beer. I may have a filthy tongue, but smelly I am not. Anyway, the H2O's back now, pouring from my taps as well as drenching me from on high when I go outside, so all that's over.

A HEO descended on me with a printout of an email from Personnel. "Please conduct PMDS annual reviews asap," it said. "Bugger." I replied. And then, "You could just have forwarded that to me... save the trees and all that." The HEO responded that I smelt too nice to be a tree hugger and told me to just do it. Arse.

The second working week of the new year flung me into the shit with a new project that demanded intense concentration and participation of me. Neither of which I really wanted to supply at the time but I think I muddled through OK only to burn out just as the weekend was upon me.

In spite of this, I was happy to have the Bearded One (aka "Himself") turn up on my doorstep with some beers and a bottle of Buckfast. The resultant hangover rendered me useless for most of Saturday, which was an utter pain in the arse as there was stuff to be done that had to be put on hold as I lay upstairs trying to shut out the waves of alcohol-induced pain surging through my cranium.

This week feels far more calm. So far. Mind you, I haven't gotten round to those PMDS forms yet so who knows what delights they have in store for me.

Guurgh!

I have few recollections of the recent office Christmas party.

The meal was lovely. I remember that bit. Plus I was seated next to some colleagues I didn't know very well before now and that worked out nicely.

I also remember singing loud rebel songs in a pub with some equally drunk colleagues while people at neighbouring tables looked on, smirking.

I bumped into a former colleague in another pub. The conversation went something like this:
Govstooge: AAAh howya Margaret!
Margaret: Hello Govstooge, how are you?
Govstooge: Uhurrhuurgh! Bleargh! Burble! (And various other unintelligible drunk person sounds).
Margaret: Eh, yeah. Excuse me, I have to go over here now.

The highlight of the night was when my stomach contents erupted all over the fine wood-marquetry of an upmarket pub door. And I got a fair few spatters myself.

Luckily, no-one else remembered.

I hope.

I have to face the rest of them tomorrow.

Groundhog Day?

Today my hangover was such that I did not emerge from under the covers until it was beginning to get dark again.

Going to bed at 4am tanked up on beer is not healthy.

Looks like I didn't miss much though.