After the reunion yesterday I was meaning to travel back home this afternoon. I had especially booked a late train (6pm)  and a late option for departing the hotel room (1pm) but after getting to my bed at 5am even this was impossible. I woke up at 11am, fully clothed, shoes kicked off next to the bed, handbag and phone beside me and I could not move. I was lying face down from where I had fallen face forward onto the bed, coat still on. Having realised where I was I lay for a minute trying to count up how many drinks I had. It was impossible to know. 10 glasses of wine? 30 glasses of wine? It felt like the latter. My head was pounding and my mouth tasted terrible. I managed to peel myself from the bed and walk to the bathroom. I got a glass of water and looked in the mirror. Mascara everywhere, bloodshot eyes, coat still on. I knew already that there would be no way I could leave the room before 1pm. I could hardly stand up. I had drunk a hell of a lot of wine.

I managed to get 2 paracetamol inside me, clean my teeth and put on my pyjamas. I went back to bed, this time managing to get under the covers and set the alarm for 12.30.

But of course I could not sleep. I had way too much alcohol in my system and too many guilty thoughts. Guilty for drinking so much, guilty for staying out too late, guilty for probably making a fool of myself in front of all my old school friends (what must they think of me?), guilty for flirting the whole evening with that guy who’s name I cannot remember. There was absolutely no way I could manage a train today so I called reception and asked them to book me in for another night. Luckily it is no problems. The plan was to surprise my family this afternoon with my presence but instead I shut my eyes and fall into a hangover sleep until 5pm.

In the early evening I manage to take a bath and phone my husband telling him that we didn’t get enough time together yesterday evening so I am meeting girl friends for dinner. A total lie of course and I am very doubtful that he believes me. My 12 year old wants to know all about the party and is really disappointed that I am not coming home. It makes me feel a bit bad when I talk to her. I think about some of the other woman at the party telling me what a busy day they had today. One was visiting her son at Uni, the other taking hers to cricket. One woman was celebrating her birthday with a big party. It seemed like everyone other than me had something to do. Did they manage it? Or did they also wake up with a coat on, face down on the bed? I have this feeling that I must be the only person at the reunion who is suffering today, but if I really think about it, probably not, because everybody who went to the club was still drinking at 4am.

Relieved that I did not have to give a party, of visit Uni or get to cricket, I search for a film on the hotel tv, dial for room service (one glass of wine to help the hangover) and stay in my room. It is dark already and I have not even opened the curtains today. Tiredness has set in and the guilty thoughts have gone.

I watch TV until 11pm and then turn out the light. Exhausted I fall in a deep sleep and sleep for 10 whole hours. Blissful sleep that makes me feel much much better.

 

 

Sunday.

A perfect day for a last day of drinking

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