Ugh

[gothwalk]

Last night was a work night out. I should know by now that drinking when I'm not entirely well anyway is a bad idea. The hangover was very very bad, but I was holding together pretty well until I got to Dun Laoghaire Dart Station, and there was a strong smell of rotten milk. I had to sprint out of the station - which was nearly as bad, with the headache - and lean against a wall and breathe deeply for a bit. A small dog seemed very concerned about me, as did his owner, who, apart from having a dog, closely resembled Mad Hettie in Sandman. I escaped after a few minutes of explaining that no, it was just a hangover, I'd be fine, and there was really no need to pray to any of the saints for me.

Having gotten to work and sat down where things are not moving and there are no strange smells - just coffee - I'm starting to feel much better.