Pills, booze and bad angles

I hate jetlag. Why do I still have jet-lag? Is it because I’m getting old? It could have been avoided by taking a sleeping tablet on the last night in Singapore and getting a decent six hours sleep instead of an inadequate two. But I stupidly googled “Unisom + alcohol” and discovered it’s a bad mix (surprise). Which is a shame, because I’ve always found it to be a brilliant mix. The night of the Not Neighbourly Neighbours and their thrashing party, I had lots of wine at a dinner party, popped two pills – after screaming at the Not Neigbourly Neighbours – and was out cold until 9am the next day. No frothing fury over the pounding music. No 2am dry horrors. No hours of sleepless anxiety over all the stupid, drunken things I’d said at the dinner party (I tend to blurt stuff like, “Thanks for the burnt offerings, guys!”, then torture myself when the dry horrors wake me). Ah yes, the pill + booze combo was so lovely. Why did it have to be deadly? Blah, no fun. Also not fun was showing our holiday snaps to my parents yesterday. I hadn’t seen them until that horrifying computer slideshow and what a hideous collection of (my) bad angles they were. Not that there’s a good angle of me at the moment. As Mum kindly pointed out while we were having a cuppa on the couch: “Have you put on a bit of weight, darling?” Yes, Mother, I have. That’s why I’ve given up all the best things in life: carbs, alcohol, Diet Coke (I’m convinced it makes you fat somehow, despite the zero calories) … Oh, who am I kidding? The cafe we went to for lunch yesterday didn’t feature any carb-less items on the menu, so I immediately caved and had a chicken wrap. It was quite enormous and I could have stopped at half, but I scoffed the lot. Mum and Dad are also partial to a wine with their dinner, so I popped a bottle in the fridge for them … and had a glass (or two) myself. No Diet Coke, though. Sipped on miserable tap water all day. Yes, I am a hero.

TONIGHT’S MENU: Oh … actually, no idea. I cooked everything in the fridge last night – chicken, sausages, steak – to feed my parents, sister, nephew and the Sprogs. Husband was in bed with some flu-like ailment and his bad back. Chicken was also suffering, from being dreadfully over-cooked. So my performance anxiety was justified.