too wrecked for brecht

I was supposed to audition for a play today, called Brecht's Notebook. I ended up getting pissed on the quad instead.

It was a fair swap I suppose. I wasn't really fussed about the play, it was a whim, as was going to the pub for a steady gin and tonic before the audition. Clearly, going to the pub for a single drink is an art that is currently beyond me. So, I lost out on a play I probably wouldn't have gotten into (it's very third year cliquey here) and didn't know anything about, and gained an awful lot of giggles, being Too Wrecked For Brecht, chatting up the lovely barman (you know, the one who always blushes when I order Screaming Orgasms) and lying on the quad watching the turrets actually spin around me.

I made everyone lie on their backs and look up at the cloudy night sky and the impressive spikiness of the Founder's Building. Being at the emotional stage of inebriation, I was suddenly struck by how incredibly lucky I am to be here. The moment was slightly spoiled by Est spilling a double gin and tonic (easy on the tonic, big up the ice and lime) on my ass, but only slightly.

Bit worrying though, how everything gives way to booze on Thursdays. Something about Thursdays.

So, after tomorrow night, no drinking for a week. None at all. You can hold me to it. If I can't get through next week without a drink I'll stop for two. This can't be a good habit to get into.

It's odd though, how getting wrecked is just so much easier.