Why do we do it to ourselves?

This week I have had a massive ‘I’m never drinking again week’. on Sunday I went round my mate Helens for a quiet drink as we had Monday off and I still felt like I’d been run over by 20 kids on micro scooters by Wednesday. I’m not sure where the night went from ‘drink’ to still sitting drinking wine at 7am. It could of been when I named the broom Cilla and started Cillit Banging things in time to house music. It could of been when me and Helen decided we were amazing singers and started working on our X Factor auditions. It might of even been when I accidently drunk straight rum because I forgot I hadn’t put in the limeade. Who knows. Either way I spent the whole day Monday at Helens passed out on her balcony in the blazing hot sun hating life, intermittently throwing up in her toilet that I had previously cillit banged to the tune of Laidback Luke ‘Break the house down’.

Needless to say, I spent all week professing to take up knitting, do the garden and stay in until I go to Crete in August.

But as soon as Friday rolled round, I went out for a quick dinner at Frankie and Bennys and rolled in at 6.45am after having been to a strip club.

Fuck sake.


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