Best laid plans

I planned to go the gym yesterday after work but at 5pm Tracey emails me and says do you want to meet up for a quick drink? and I say aaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh tempting, but I’ve promised myself that I’m going to the gym after work and I wasn’t going to drink today and even if we only have one drink I’ll end up going home via the offy and she emails back and says but you won’t see me for two weeks as I’m going away on Monday, are you sure I can’t persuade you? and I say but it’s usually more than two weeks in between seeing you anyway and I’m logging off in a couple of minutes so you haven’t got long to persuade me and she emails back says it’s Friday? so I email back and say ok, when and where? and we meet up and have a glass of wine then go to meet her mate and her mate’s sister in another pub and we have two more glasses of wine then Tracey buys a bottle of champagne to celebrate getting her compensation money for the scar that no one can see and I manage to leave before every one else before I’m tempted to drink more wine and end up in hospital and get the train home and realise I’m a bit pissed as the pages of my book are all blurry and I get home and realise I’m supposed to blog and I look at the clock and I’ve got 35 minutes ’til it’s midnight and I’m wondering what my fingers/keyboard coordination would be like and I think rubbish probably and I go to bed and I wake up hungover although I only had three glasses of wine and half a glass of champagne but we didn’t eat due to a veggie sausage and mash based fiasco and I’m too knackered to go out for a run and I don’t get to try out my new running shoes

New running shoes

and I’ll have to force myself to do a running commute on Tuesday and try them out then.

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