There always seems to be something almost funny about the morning after a long night of over indulgence, the way you wake up looking like you just smelled something really bad….eyes squinty, brows scrunched and nose all crinkled. The way you chuckle about the wild things you said or did that you may not have had you had a few less glasses, or the fact that you don’t quite remember how you ended up at X. The sheer wildness of your behavior when you are otherwise mild mannered lends itself to an inflated sense of “wow, that was kind of a rock star night”. I get it, I do it more often than I should and most the time without too much regret……that is until, the morning after the morning after.
This is when you see some of the people you were with and begin to hear stories of moments that you either don’t recall or through self preservation have blocked…doesn’t happen too often thankfully, but man when it does……feels pretty yucky. I make light of most of my crazy evenings here on this blog and truth be told 99.9% of it is all in good fun and there is little or no shame in my game but that 1% of the time when I cross a line or two it is profoundly jarring to me and I spend weeks trying to get at the route of what may have caused said behavior…..the moon, bad combination of drinks and wine, bad combination of people..what, what?!
Well this morning I was treated to filling in of the gray areas by one of the Monday party goers……ya know, I so wish I didn’t know. Nothing horrible….dont go thinking I’m some monster but there was some questionable discussions that were left to me, (not taking all the blame for that one) and it seems that I let a little “hood rat” filter back into my system….went from quiet and sarcastic to loud and tacky…zero to sixty.
After making the information stop…as in, “Please stop….I don’t want to hear anymore” I spent the entire afternoon in a funk, such a bummer as I was in a great mood yesterday, thought I had sailed through the day’s events unscathed, looking kinda cute in my slightly girlie clothes, being all fun and bubbly……yeah, not so much. I was so bummed that I forgot to eat and was thinking that I may need to bring home a bottle of bubbles to soothe my inner ick. I left work a bit early but had purchased a bottle of NV Lucien Albrecht Cremant d’Alsace ($18.99) not Champagne but still bubbles and if anyone needed a lift today….it was me.
I got home and listened to my hubby finally tell me all about the case he has been on for jury duty. The trail ended today so he was like a spewing fountain the second I walked in the door, I was so happy that he was able to get this all off his chest. I was listening and involved in the conversation but I was still deeply submerged in my funky mood….I was getting depressed, I may have been hungry although I didn’t feel like I was and I knew it was time for a glass of bubbles. That was when the hubby said, “what you want for dinner”….could not have cared less, I’m one of those non eaters when I get blue or down on myself so food was the very last thing on my mind so he settled on fried chicken…oh…but….oh I have bubbles! Know how you turn that frown upside down, (god is that the lamest phrase ever??) it is bubbly wine and fried chicken.
I forced a piece of fried chicken thigh onto a plate and poured myself a glass of sparkling wine, if that is not one of the best pairings on the planet I don’t know what is…crunchy breaded dark meat chicken washed down with frothy, light sparkling wine…makes everything so clean, less heavy and refreshing….perked me up a bit no doubt.
I finished ¾ of my piece of chicken and drained the glass of Cremant d’Alsace and I am going to allow myself a second glass while I take a long soak in our way too small tub, wash the days yuck from my skin and lather my way into a much better mood….each day that passes moves me further from my bad day so tomorrow is already better right?!
Dublin: Days 4 - 7
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