#neveragain

I have learnt my lesson: I am never ever
a) consuming alcohol on an empty stomach
b) going to continue drinking despite the clear effects on my gait (I had full on ataxia, yo. I was however still able to spell 'world' backwards)
c) scoffing carbs galore because I am so bloated - I feel like my body just doesn't tolerate carbohydrates like it used to. Or simply my body is unused to feeling full

We held a surprise birthday party for one of my friends last night at one of the more nicer eateries in the city. I will say for $27 - it was a pretty decent feed in terms of quantity and at the risk of sounding like a complete food snob, while it was no degustation course, my palate was sufficiently pleased. Or rather, I was just stoked as fuck to eat pizza and garlic bread after denying myself such lovely carbohydrate filled foods for suuuuuch a long time. I did refrain from using the parmesan cheese because I figured I was probably going to exceed my entire caloric intake for the last three days in the space of a single evening. Anyway - this was all done while my friend plied my glass with wine, which immediately went straight to my brain because I hadn't eaten for four hours. It certainly made the evening enjoyable because I was just like, "Eh fuck it - I'm just going to eat all the things" and then followed it up with dessert. At this point, a few of us decided to go for a quiet drink. I had begun to sober up during dessert as dinner kicked in (belatedly) and thought another drink probably would be okay seeing as it was only 9pm.

I could not have been more wrong.

We found this charming lounge bar (might I mention, down the end of this incredibly dodgy looking alleyway), complete with a roaring fireplace and the plushiest couches I had seen in a long time. While the other upmarket bar in the city centre that we normally visit has an air of refined exclusiveness, this one had a more intimate feel to it, while still maintaining that upmarket feel. And the cocktail menu! So many choices - but my eye fell on the Turkish Delight martini, complete with a glace cherry. So anyway, out my drink came and I took a sip and my uncultured mouth was not used to the alcoholic taste. Normally, I can quite comfortably scull (ahem, I am rather ashamed of this) wine, but this drink I had to drink very slowly because it was just that strong - but oh so delicious. It was like a liquid turkish delight. So anyway, I managed to finish that drink and then got dropped off home, thinking that I'd be okay to sleep off any residual effects because I wasn't actually tipsy at that point - just rather tired.

Wrong.

My heart was pounding the entire night. I have never been so aware of my heartbeat before and fuck me, it was the most uncomfortable feeling in the world. Imagine after going for a run and feeling that constant rhythm on your chest - except this is like 3am in the morning and you haven't been out for a run (because at least that's a legitimate reason to have a pounding heart) and regardless of what position you lie in, you can still feel your heart. After a rather restless night of pretty much null sleep, I eventually worked up the courage to google this phenomenon (just in case it did warrant waking up my doctor flatmate and seeking medical attention - because I am a hypochondriac) and apparently, it is quite common. Also M. gets this too when she drinks - so while it all rather seems benign and self limiting, I think I'd rather not repeat this experience again.

So it's going to be two weeks of detoxing from all that. And catching up on sleep because I am shatteredddddddd