So I went on a date last night.
For a celebratory meal (grilled salmon on a bed of mashed potato), and ended up drinking up a full on fucking Phuza Thursday with him, Whale and a few others at Gin in Greenside after dinner, then a napover and it's all lovely and all, but seriously:
I AM HUNGOVER, FEELING ILL, AND NOT COPING.
I mean for Chrissakes, I have to host a sex toy party tonight.
And make cosmopolitans. I'm gonna puke ok.
We were celebrating the outcome of my book, and you know, life and all that. And now I find myself thinking 'that might've been a bad idea.'
Lovely napover, lovely date, all that lovely stuff - and it's a repeat process with this person, but right now...Jesus Christ I'm hungover.