Alcoholic trauma #2

No, I haven’t fainted again, although it has been a bit touch and go at times.

I went to the doctors to see if I should be concerned about my lack of a constitution and inability to remain conscious. I saw a nice nurse (you’re never allowed to see a doctor there, not unless you actually have a limb detached or something) who said that probably I’m fine. I’m just too thin and have no energy reserves, so after gorging myself on calorific alcohol I get a slump afterwards. So she thinks I should eat more and try to gain some weight.

Gain some weight?! What about my anorexic chic? Hmm… I’ll have to have a think about that. I wouldn’t mind being a bit broader and more muscly, but I’m not sure how exactly I could eat more than I do at the moment. I suppose I could pipe milkshake directly into my veins during the night.

Alcoholic trauma

Naomi’s wedding was lovely. I hadn’t realised it was going to be in a massive marquee in the middle of a field, but they had done it so nicely. And there was a free bar all night, result! But that also meant I don’t know how much I drank.

I remember nearly getting tearful at the hog roast because of its poor little piggy face and piggy tail. And then I remember getting back to the B&B and taking photos of each other being dwarves (sorry to the dwarfish community). And I fell down between two beds. And I saw some female nipples, which was exciting for me.

But then for the THIRD time after drinking I almost fainted in the car on the way home again the next day. I have got such a fragile constitution! I really ought to do something about my low blood pressure and hypoglycaemia issues. Or just stop drinking so much. But then we do need to be realistic about this, and wine does taste awfully nice…

Forgive me Facebook

I just got up and put the computer on, and then sat here for a while thinking “now what is it I normally open first on here?” And I couldn’t remember, so I did some emails for a bit and mooched about.

And then I thought OH MY GOD FACEBOOK! How could I have forgotten?? I feel dirty and unfaithful now, I’m sorry Facebook. I’m changing my homepage immediately so that never happens again.

Off to a wedding reception in Hertfordshire today, should be good fun. I just hope I don’t have a hangover-induced fainting fit in the car on the way home tomorrow, Ellie will never forgive me. And I can’t buy her off with Transformers toys from Woolworths like I did with Chris.

Going to the shops is now a multi-obstacle assault course

How hard can it be to walk to the shops unimpeded? Well, apparently very.

First there’s the rather dirty looking drunk man who thinks taking a zig zag route up the pavement is the way to go. Special Brew at 11am anyone? That took some careful negotiation and swerving to ensure no part of me came into contact with him.

Then there’s the pack of EF Language School students in matching backpacks. Do they REALLY need to travel in herds of 50? And all cross the road at once, regardless of traffic? Do they not have traffic on the continent or something? I admit, accidentally getting myself into the middle of the group instead of skirting round it was a mistake. I thought they were going to realise I wasn’t one of them and start shouting “burn the witch!” Eventually obstacle two was cleared, 10 points.

And then there’s the bloody cheeky chappy in his yellow bib and clipboard ready to pounce on you to ask for just £2 a month in aid of whichever charity he’s been asked to wear the bib for today. I used to try to be polite to them, and even occasionally stopped to talk to them sometimes, but the years have eroded my good manners and I have now perfected the art of the Quick Shutdown. Try it some time, it works on bib-sporters and street beggars alike. Do not slow down. Do not change direction. Raise one hand in a stop motion and proclaim loudly “No, I’m not stopping”. Do not allow your hand motion to become an opening for them to shake your hand, another recent trick of theirs. Keep moving, even if your trajectory is taking you into oncoming traffic. It is cruel but much quicker in the long run. You can also vary the wording for street beggars who wish to tell you their life story to “Yeah, I’m not giving you any money” just so there’s no misunderstanding.

Eventually got to the shops, and then forgot to get the thing I’d gone out for in the first place. Bugger.