All last week, as a result of feeling a little low and a little lonely, I was trying to get GM (and others, but specifically GM) out for a few drinks. In a roundabout way, that happened - S turned down the invite, but then issued a counter-invite to join him and his mates.
GM decided that he fancied a fancy dress night out and that was all planned. I was due to be out with work for our usual monthly even, but I couldn't make up my mind whether to go or not. JB and the stalky fella mentioned a few posts ago spent days trying to talk me into it and somewhat against my better judgement, I agreed to go out.
I was only planning on going for the free drinks we usually get and then come home and get ready for GM's phone call... but the two free drinks turned into five... then eight... then ten. By the time I left at around 8PM, I was slightly more tipsy than I had planned and that's where the entire evening's plans fell apart.
S doesn't usually leave his house until after 10PM, so I had two hours to kill. I walked the fifteen minutes back to my apartment and watched the telly, waiting for the phone call or text message that would let me know they were on their way and I could make my way to the agreed pub and meet them.
Stopping drinking is the worst thing I can do, though. Once I was on the sofa watching TV, lethargy and apathy kicked in. When the message finally came, I was pretty exhausted, comfortable and looking out the window at heavy rain. Even text messages from JB asking me to come out weren't enough to prise me away from the house.
So, no hangover today, but a bit of regret and anger at myself that I didn't go out last night with GM. That's all my fault - the mistake was going to the work thing.
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