Day 11
Oh god.
Ohgodohgodohgod.
Why did I drink so much of that fermented liquid I was offered last night. I have spent most of the day in a kind of stupor. Not wanting to move too much in case I lost the £4.95 big breakfast from Morrison's that the Internet told me would be a good curative. It's nearly a fiver after all.
I was kindly offered a sofa to crash on last night, I was all prepared to get a taxi home so that was a nice bonus. Probably for the best though as I don't know if you are well versed in the taxi's of Portsmouth? I can't speak eastern European when I'm sober so bugger trying to direct Alexander Alexandrovich* when I'm under the weather.
Also, does anyone else get that kind regret/guilty feeling when they wake up after a night on it? Just me? Great.
Called on the take-away fairy again today. It's not good for my waist-line but I'm keeping the New Golden Leaf afloat in this global financial crisis so I consider myself a force for good in the neighbourhood. They probably don't agree, and I'm not sure why they leave my order on the step outside with the door locked. Kinda odd.
Not long until Jay and the kids are back, Facetimed them earlier, they were off out to a Karaoke bar, all look nicely tanned, they've had enough of the heat now and want to come back. Just hope I can get the stains out before then.
Arrivederci!
*kind of a cop-out stereotypical name, but best I could do, you know, NOT being Russian.
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