What have I done?

If my body is a temple then last night I ransacked the altar and overturned a lot of tables. Drank the sacrificial wine too if the hangover is anything to go by. To make things worse, despite only crawling into bed at 02:30, I've been awake since around 06:00 - alarm call courtesy of my housemate talking to his family in Nigeria. Any louder and he wouldn't have needed the phone.

I'm a disgrace. Last night was only supposed to be dinner and a glass of wine at Kate's - a quiet girly evening to remind me what it's like to be in female company. I spend so much time with guys here that I'll soon be scratching my butt in public and leaving the loo seat up. Anyway, quiet girly evening turned into getting shit-faced drunk and talking about men - one in particular - which is only ever going to end one way. Skippy is in Paris right now with his best friend's girlfriend. Sounds like an issue worthy of an article in 'Take a Break' magazine I know, but if I'm honest it's actually quite innocent. She's nice and there's nothing going on, but I object to the audacity of the girl asking my then boyfriend to go on holiday with her, and even more so to him accepting after turning down my offer and going on to dump me a month later. He got flu two days before the flight and he left for France feeling like death. Karma's a bitch ain't she? Anyway, time to put the voodoo doll down and leave the poor boy alone. He's kind and honest. It's just me who's bitter, twisted and suspicious.

So, aside from getting ashamedly drunk and weaving my way home through an imaginary chicane in the wee hours of the morning, what else did I get up to yesterday? Not an awful lot really. I loafed better than bread itself all day Thursday, leaving it 'til 23:00 to get started on the presentation due the next morning. Somehow I'm gifted with the bizarre knack of pulling projects out of my ass at T minus 2 seconds and getting good grades - yesterday was a shining example. After delivering 8 pages of basic powerpoint and 15 minutes of related dialogue by the seat of my pants, I'm approached by my lecturer and offered a reference should I be considering a PhD - Dr. Warwick...has a kind of kinky ring to it, don't you think?

Eight solid hours in a darkened room watching powerpoint presentations on the sunniest day so far this year had me screaming for a run 10 minutes in though, and run I did - like my usual herd of turtles, admittedly, but the peanut butter's thinning. Settled into my pace really quickly, and instead of my usual lower-lip-sucking-grimace, I ran with a smile on my face. It's not true what they say about 'smile and the world smiles with you', by the way. They just think you're simple. Anyway, did 3kms easily and had to force myself to stop, too much too soon is likely to result in a loud snap and a long spell in A&E, but I'm building steadily by half a Km or so each time. The body-busting combination of having a hangover and being on my euphemisim means the only running I'll be doing today however, is between here and the cupboard where the chocolate is kept. To think I lost 2lbs this week too. That'll be returned with interest by the time I'm done feeding the painters and decorators. I'm stuffing my face with a vanilla slice as I type.

So, if not running, what's on the agenda for the rest of today then? Answer; not much. Have another assignment due Monday, but the fact that I'm blogging rather than slogging suggests I'll be pulling another mammoth all nighter sponsored by Doritos and Cadburys tomorrow. Can't wait. Terrorism module starts Monday and, true to form, the lecturer has managed to spread seventy hours of lectures in such a way that they're going to feel like a hundred and forty...it's going to be a tough couple of months!