In the last couple of weeks or so, a few people have taken to drinking on a school night. This is all well and good and always seems like a good idea at the time. However, I personally spent the whole of a Wednesday trying to focus, not fall asleep and not throw up..thanks to going out for “one”. Someone else didn’t wake up until 11 and got to work 4 hours late. Another got into work in plenty of time, but had to go home in the afternoon (I get to thank SP for that one).
Why do we do it to ourselves though? It’s not like in the UK, which I think is our problem. In the UK, the worst you can do is drink until 11pm (ish) on a school night..this means that you may be drunk, but at least you are home the right side of midnight generally. Over here the bars stay open until people stop buying beer (or that’s how it feels)…so any day of the week can lead to getting home a few minutes before you have to get up for work.
Couple that with the fact that the beer is so damned good and you have a recipe for being unemployed quite rapidly….
That said, as I write this I am regretting yesterday…once again I attempted to go out for “one”, fully expecting two or three as I watched the football. What I didn’t anticipate was drinking for almost 8 hours solid.
Memorable moments from yesterday..
SP trying to change the subject when former blog posts were referred to.
TD wrecking Rs 2 week old pride and joy Vespa by accelerating into a wall 2 meters in front of him.
M and P playing the fart game (we all lost that ).
M and P fighting for the last slice of pizza.
Quite a few playing rugby..in the rain..with a small sponge rugby ball.
Women coming in and insisting Robbie Williams was played, and P changing it to Business Time by Flight of the Conchords halfway through.
My weak and pathetic attempts to say no to more beer being thwarted by….well, everyone really
Me trying to convince TD that, despite repeating it like some kind of mantra for 4 months, I really will be going to his tattoo shop soon for my next tattoo.
Watching Gaelic Football and not having the first clue what was going on
Me being made unofficial keeper of the Kick in the nuts rulebook and helping M invent new ones on the spot to deal with whoever was near us.
Also, me being given exemption from the game…despite being English and a Liverpool fan
Other than that it was pretty much about the beer….far too much of it as it happens. Still…not bad for a lazy Sunday afternoon