Pix can't party

One of the necessities of moving to a new town, admittedly a new old town, is to make an effort to establish new social networks. Actually, new networks in general. And one of the consequences of that, for me at least in recent times, is the common hangover. Actually, I have had two in the last 3 weeks that were in no way common. I would say acute. I would say debilitating. As in down on your hands and knees, eyes streaming, puking blood. And the worst part is after i did it 3 weekends ago, after a night with my new ICU nurse friend drinking monstrous concoctions of paint stripper and cream, I swore that I was too old for it and I was done with alcohol. Curled tightly in the foetal position unable to move my mini sister brought the phone in to me, it was the nurse, wanting to know if i wanted to go for a walk along the beach. And I realised I had to admit defeat, my slight physique had bested me, I could no longer claim the title of Boozey that I had defended so admirably (with copious quantities of tequila) in my younger years...

But then this Friday, I realised the three week trial has taken its toll. The trial is a beast that seesaws between mind numbingly, head noddingly dull to intensely complex and emotionally and mentally challenging. And my boss told me and our secretary to go home early on Friday. And the secretary offered to bring me back into town after I had dropped off the car. And so I'd had 2 pints by 6 o'clock. Soon after that we were up at the local police station at their Christmas function, and the drinks were ridiculously cheap. And the rounds started.....

I danced and drunk and evaded the advances of a paunchy, balding prosecutor and danced some more with some guy that might have been Pio from Pete and Pio. And then i reached the point, some 9 hours after we first got to town, that I needed to go home. And I woke up naked. Which is basically an alarm bell, translating to

oh god, I must have got hammered last night.

And I put on a brave face. I rang the boy and chatted away merrily. I ate a muesli bar. I watched tv in bed. I pretended everything was fine. And then it hit me..........

It's not the drinking. It's how we're drinking.