I feel like shit. I think my head might fall off today. I’m sure it weighs about 15 stone.
I woke-up hungover. I fell over putting my tights on. I had to clean the crisps out of my bed that I don’t remember eating. What is my life?!
My hangover diet consists of water, a McDonald’s large chicken nugget meal with a diet coke and a McFlurry and of course a free student cheeseburger, water, crisps, water, free food at work and more water.
Why didn’t I drink water last night? And why the hell don’t I remember getting into bed? And why is my shit all over the floor? And why did it take me an hour to find the bus stop?! I hate buses as it is but I hate them even more when it takes me an hour to find one and in the process of searching I fell down, on all fours, in the road. Why is London so difficult? I’m telling you, there are little pixies or something that steal the road signs and move them around just to confuse people. So I fell down. I mean, I stacked it. Then I cried. I might not remember the crisps but I remember that much.
I also remember that Baker Street station has toilets. They are free. If it wasn’t for the nice guy in Baker Street station I probably wouldn’t have found the bus stop for another hour or so and may well have pissed myself. Drunk in one-way-system-central London after the tubes have finished is not the one.