My day, without evaluative adjectives, because, as I sat here writing it, I couldn't decide whether to call it a wonderful day or a horrible day:
Last night, took WB out for drinks. Had far too many whisky sours, although not enough to make me as sick to my stomach as I was this morning. Unless sour mix is a bad thing to ingest that much of, which may have been the case. Kids, I can't emphasize this enough: mixers are dangerous.
SB showed up and gave us a ride home (thank God, since the conversation was coughing up more blood than I was). Slept till six this evening.
Hence my indecision of whether today was a good or an evil day -- a day of unadulterated, if less than completely comfy sleep is a rare blessing. This is getting needlessly Ancient Greek. Please drive through.
Then I got up, staggered downstairs to puke, had the noodles that I couldn't stomach last night, decided, once again, not to have the noodles (although more of them stayed down than last night), curled up on the luuuvseat with Mike Leigh's "Life is Sweet", which was precisely the kind of film I needed to see. And then I logged on.
I'm glad things can get this exciting.
love,
alastair