It's not big and it's not clever. I drank so much wine last night that I made myself ill. Little man was, incidentally, staying with daddy. I wouldn't have done it if he had been home.
It's not something I do very often and, of course, right now I'm vowing never again. It was the sort of hangover that only a McDonald's could reach. Which makes me feel bad for going there at all. I find it very sad when I'm standing in the queue seeing quite young children being fed on burgers and fries. I'm sure little man will discover Happy Meals at some point but I'm not going to help speed that up.
Anyway, chicken sandwich and fries downed, I then had to get through six hours at work. Yes, on a Sunday. I got quite a lot of knitting done as it was a quiet day but even looking down at the needles made me feel a bit queasy at times.
I'm now typing this in the time it takes a frozen pizza to cook. I will be having an early night and tomorrow I will probably feel particularly wonderful and motivated to be healthy because of the sheer contrast with today. I would like to point out that yesterday was not all unhealthy though. I did walk up Rivington Pike with the two friends I later drank with and we had a mostly-vegetarian barbecue.
I was impressed that I managed to light the barbecue and successfully cook on it - without needing a man. Now I need to pump up my own car tyres and put up a new curtain in little man's room and I will be a truly independent woman.
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