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Better living through chemistry.
I'd honestly forgotten how much fun it is to get plastered. Even if it's in the context of upscale Austrian cuisine with my grandmother seated across the table. Plastered is plastered, regardless of the context.
It'd been another bad day, where around five o'clock with another hour to go before I left the gallery for the week I suddenly stopped. All the energy I had just left without warning, leaving me drained to the point where getting down off the ladder took some effort. Yes, the gallery's library has walls of books that go up to the ceiling, so if the ladder's well-greased, I can pull off a Beauty and the Beast homage. But I digress - not totally drained, since I managed to get down, but nowhere near ready to do much more than read stuff on the Internet. And then I found out the end product of a project I commissioned isn't what I want so I need to find a good way to say that while emphasizing that it's my fault, not theirs, plus a promise to reimburse them for the materials already used. So by the time I got to the restaurant, even after a nice walk through warehouses in early evening light, I was pretty low.
So I chugged a glass of wine and slammed back a cocktail and felt much, much better about life in general. It helped I couldn't really feel my feet or remember my name after ten minutes.
I've since eaten dinner and had a double espresso so I'm a lot more on-the-ball, but still pretty smashed. But not so smashed I can't use correct spelling and punctuation, and I'm going to blow a huge raspberry to everyone who makes drunken posts that can't manage that. If this is all an English degree is good for, I might as well enjoy it on the rare evenings it comes up.
And if I wasn't planning on doing a tiny bit of writing tonight too, I'd have a couple of ciders and keep this nice buzz going. But I am, so herbal tea it is.
It'd been another bad day, where around five o'clock with another hour to go before I left the gallery for the week I suddenly stopped. All the energy I had just left without warning, leaving me drained to the point where getting down off the ladder took some effort. Yes, the gallery's library has walls of books that go up to the ceiling, so if the ladder's well-greased, I can pull off a Beauty and the Beast homage. But I digress - not totally drained, since I managed to get down, but nowhere near ready to do much more than read stuff on the Internet. And then I found out the end product of a project I commissioned isn't what I want so I need to find a good way to say that while emphasizing that it's my fault, not theirs, plus a promise to reimburse them for the materials already used. So by the time I got to the restaurant, even after a nice walk through warehouses in early evening light, I was pretty low.
So I chugged a glass of wine and slammed back a cocktail and felt much, much better about life in general. It helped I couldn't really feel my feet or remember my name after ten minutes.
I've since eaten dinner and had a double espresso so I'm a lot more on-the-ball, but still pretty smashed. But not so smashed I can't use correct spelling and punctuation, and I'm going to blow a huge raspberry to everyone who makes drunken posts that can't manage that. If this is all an English degree is good for, I might as well enjoy it on the rare evenings it comes up.
And if I wasn't planning on doing a tiny bit of writing tonight too, I'd have a couple of ciders and keep this nice buzz going. But I am, so herbal tea it is.