Monday was the same way. That is to say, Sunday night I stayed up too late and drank too much; Monday was a waste. Tuesday night I stayed up too late and drank too much; today was a waste.
If there's a good part to the story, I'm drinking less than I was back in May and June. I look at how much it took to make me worthless today or Monday, and there was a whole week straight back in May when I had more than that every single night. Of course I wrote you about it too, so clearly it concerned me. (And except for writing all my West Highland Way blog posts, the month of May was pretty much a loss for me, as I discussed here.) Anyway, if I'm now tolerating less booze before it wipes me out, maybe my body is finally balking and telling me to quit. That would probably be a good thing, I suppose.
Also this morning I had a Skype call with Marie, and for the very first time we actually used the video link for sex. (I know, I know, other people figure this out when they are teenagers and not in their sixties. But Skype hadn't been invented back when we were teenagers.) In the moment it was exciting and fun, but I found myself feeling kind of squicky about it afterwards. That might be partly because I realized only afterwards that all my windows were open (though with the blinds drawn), so I wonder if anybody heard anything. Also maybe partly I was still feeling the after-effects of the hangover.
Maybe I can make tomorrow a better day.
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