Day 108: The Hangover

Its another rainy Sunday. Subsequently, I can't be bothered to do anything but sit in my room in a t-shirt stuffing my face with cereal and toast or sleeping. After waking up from a nap that drug on for hours, I just polished off one bowl of cheerios, one bowl of corn flakes/cheerios/cocoa krispies (I miss mix-a-bowls, can you tell?) and 2 pieces of black currant jam toast and 1 piece of cheesy toast. Mmmmmm. I'm about to explode. And I really, really want to go back to bed. I figure the sleeping will pay off and I'll be really sharp when I stay up late tonight doing homework. I have officially hit the home stretch for the semester. This week I hope to complete round one successfully: BMRI presentation, a Buddhist philosophy short essay (750 wd), and my two final projects for social work. I can't even remember what happens in round 2, but my large Buddhism essay is due (2500 wd) and that makes me very, very afraid.

So this weekend we went to Avoca. The house we were staying in was really cool, it was quite large with a nice back patio with beach views and an indoor pool. Upon our arrival I just wanted a pizza from Eagle Boys so Koko and I went to pick that up and stop by the bottle shop. They were having a special on Canadian Club for $30 (yea, liquor prices are RIDICULOUS if I haven't already whined extensively about that...) so I bought that. When I was getting out of the car back at the house, the bottom fell out of the freakin' brown paper bag they put my whiskey in and it FELL TO THE GROUND AND SHATTERED. I can't even tell you how angry I was. Really, I'm not going to try. Imagine watching your only bottle of alcohol for the weekend plummeting towards the cement in slow motion then smashing into a million pieces and the smell of whiskey filling the air as it races around the glass shards down the driveway into the gutter. Yea. So after having a few pieces of pizza and trying to pull myself together I determine the best course of action would be to go buy myself the cheapest bottle of wine I can find as a pitiful substitute for all that whiskey that had now either evaporated or found its home in the gutter. Matthew stopped me on the way out and said that the others were going to stop by the bottler on the way home from buying their dinner and buy me another bottle. Aww how sweet, yea? So they show back up a bit later with a bottle of some stuff called Woodstock. I noticed it at the bottler earlier, it was very cheap relatively speaking, but that was really nice so I am happy.

So flashforward a few partytastic hours later and this Woodstock business has hit me pretty hard. Flashforward to the next morning and I wake up feeling as though I have been hit by a freakin' bus. What is this foreign feeling? Could it be, the mythical hangover? Oh my gosh, I have a hangover; a first for me in Australia. I have a headache, I feel perpetually nauseous, I just want to lie around and not be bothered. So I lie around until its time to go to the beach. Then I go there and sleep in the sand for a couple of hours. Then I go back to the house before everyone else, shower, and sleep for a few hours. And FINALLY around 5pm, I wake up from my latest nap and feel halfway normal again. Curse you cheap nasty poisonous whiskey!! I declare that I'm never drinking again. Crap that was awful. And, for the record, I didn't drink again Saturday night.

That's basically the Avoca trip.