Doctor, doctor.

I might have had a little too much to drink last night. It was fun, but I need The Cure something rotten today.

Have some attractive women in backless dresses.

Dreams

I kinda fell off the calorie counting wagon yesterday. Well, I did count the calories, but I wasn't paying attention to them because of alcohol. At 200 calories per can (fuck you, alcohol), I ended up roughly 1000 calories over my target. As such, I had a poor night of sleep and a dream that involved K. It was a half memory, of a trip we did back in... I'm going to say early 2004. This was after I'd had sex with K and she'd gone really weird. In real life, she was still very much interested in me, and while I would have bedded her again, I still had no interest in pursuing anything romantic.

In the dream, we did end up having sex that particular weekend... lots of it.

As such, this morning, in combination with last night's drunkenness and this morning's craving for The Cure, I have been extremely frustrated. I also feel that I've just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. I have aches and pains everywhere.

Out and about.

It was the first work thing of the year and despite a plan to come home early after doing a bit of mingling, it was nearly midnight when I finally got to bed.

Midnight's not that late, but when you've been in the pub from before 5 PM, then it's late enough.

Nerdy Girl turned up and we spent all evening chatting.

She was complaining about not having any sex in a while. Well, it was briefly mentioned a few times in passing, but it was notable as we've never actually talked about anything like that before.

As I was enjoying myself, then I stayed out longer than I was meant to. I didn't want to get too drunk because I am meant to be meeting FP tonight, which we arranged last week.

I woke this morning needing The Cure, which hasn't happened in a long time.

Surprise!

We had a work thing yesterday. Not our monthly work thing, but something only for our team. We try to have a few of these every year, for bonding and whatnot. However, due to a couple of last-minute dropouts, we roped in a few people who sit beside us, including Quiet Girl.

I didn't expect her to come along, but when the department boss gives you a half day and is going to pay for everything, what are you going to do?

So, I was in the pub by midday. Spent a pleasant few hours playing crazy golf in QG's team, before adjourning to another bar to meet up with, amongst others, Nerdy Girl.

Drunk and tired, I flopped into bed around 11 PM.

Am knackered today... and could do with The Cure.

Party on!

I woke up this morning, not hungover but definitely sleep-deprived. It was near 3:30 AM when KfW2 and I finally called it a night and we were the last two standing.

Sadly, we weren't alone very long, so my hope of sitting her down and talking through her stress didn't come to pass. It might not have done any good as I think we were both quite tipsy at that stage.

Despite my anxiety, things went pretty smoothly and everyone had a good time. It was only really FP, KfW2 and myself who got into the whole thing.

KfW2 and her hubby stayed the night. The first guests I've had since D stayed well over a year ago, but the first to hang around afterwards.

Still, upon waking this morning, I was in definite need of The Cure and the frustration hasn't eased all day.

Temptation.

"Oh right. I’d offer to act as substitute but I just got roped into babysitting as I’m not going out anyway."

We were having a conversation an hour or so ago about New Year's Eve. IG had offered her services as a substitute in light of me explaining that I quite enjoyed going out on NYE but that this year, everyone had alternative plans. She doesn't seem to like NYE herself though: "It’s the biggest and most anti-climactic night of the year."

My first thought wasn't about going to the pub, but rather back to IG's booty call messages from a while ago. Seeing as I'm in need of The Cure and going through the longest dry spell in the world, there is an ongoing temptation to take her up on her offer.

But I know that it wouldn't work. While IG is pretty enough, ultimately she's not causing any stimulation of the nether regions. If she thinks NYE is anti-climactic at the best of times, trying to have sex with me isn't going to change that outlook.

Groan.

With tonight looking like it's going to be a washout, and with having the cold over the Christmas period, I was very much looking forward to meeting FP and his wife last night. We were heading to one of my favourite bars to see one of my favourite local bands.

As a bonus, BW had messaged me on Facebook asking if I wanted his tickets. He'd planned on attending, but there was a last-minute change of plans and they were going spare.

Somewhat out of the ordinary, I was scanning the room while talking to FP. I don't usually - if I'm out with people, they get my full attention.

In the bar before the gig, there was a very cute blonde girl. She reminded me a little of a cross between QC1 and Ellie Harrison off the telly (pictured below). Despite the somewhat early time (it was a little after 8 PM when FP and I met - his missus couldn't attend), she was exceedingly drunk and pouring more Jaeger Bombs down her neck as I watched.

When we got into the gig itself, we sat beside a group of people who seemed to be with the band. There was one girl that intrigued me - a dark, bob haircut, backless top with a tattoo right between her shoulder blades. Dark hair? Short hair? Backless top? Tattoo? All of these can be a turn-on if done correctly.

However, it was soon apparent that she was involved with the guitarist, and that didn't really matter because, from the front, she wasn't really doing it for me anyway.

Even though the gig venue was, at best, half full, I still enjoyed myself. The band were great, as always. They've always packed out this venue before, so the empty seats were a real puzzle. Maybe the night before New Year's Eve isn't a great idea?

However, this morning, after last night's indulgences with a lingering albeit hazy memory of the blonde girl and backless tops and tattoos and dark bob haircuts, I awoke in need of The Cure.

Alcohol is evil.

My head's pounding. I might have over-indulged it a little more than usual last night both in terms of booze and cigarettes (I'm blaming the ciggies more for the pounding head than the booze, to be honest) with D and FBS and the others.

I've mentioned in the past that FBS and I hooked up briefly, if that's the correct term - there was a period of a couple of months where we would get physical to varying degrees. I walked off because I thought at the time that she wanted something more than just a bit of horizontal dancing and, according to QC2, I was right. But we never went back and despite a bit of distance between us (we were never actually that close in the first place), have remained in limbo between being friends and acquaintances.

Only once did we come close to hooking up again - on FBS's "farewell" night out before she left to go around the world for a year. She was giving off definite signals of wanting something, but I was, in my head, still dating FA2 at this time and left the pub before she turned the signals into something more direct. That was probably about ten years ago.

Last night, FBS turned up wearing a shirt that was unbuttoned, showing off a fair bit of cleavage. She always did have great tits and I had a really hard time not staring. Now, I know that I was drunk, but I got the feeling that she was sending me signals again last night. Perhaps I was imagining it - after all she is married - but it is interesting that she was a lot more tactile than usual, we spoke more directly to each other than we usually do on our nights out and the body language suggested it too.

That hasn't helped my mood - I've had the horn something shocking over the past fortnight or so, so I awoke this morning needing what FA2 always referred to as "The Cure" which, to put it bluntly is a bloody good fuck. Nothing like an orgasm to clear the headaches away. Of course, once she mentioned this, she was no longer able to use the age-old "headache" excuse. Heh.

Oh, FBS caught me staring at her tits loads of times. *wink*