MM

Well I was pretty way out with my sporting prediction on Sunday wasn’t I? This is why I never gamble, despite the constant onslaught of offers to join online bookie websites that flood into my inbox every week. I was very wrong, and I’ve never been happier to be so. I sat up and watched the game, of course. Enjoyed it immensely but I’ve been suffering since. I’d booked yesterday off to recover but still didn’t get any extra sleep. Last night I was very moody and tired and very short and snappy with Philippa, so she told me to piss off to bed at about 9.15 and for a change I took her advice. Today I have felt hungover, fatigued and unfocussed, and distracted by a very sore throat. I don’t think it’s a proper cold or anything; just the effects of breathing the freezing air coupled with the aftermath of sitting up until 4am on Monday. I just can’t handle these late nights anymore. In my twenties, sure, I could get away with drinking til 3am, having a couple of hours kip, doing a full day of work and then heading out again in the evening. Now, I get flattened for two days if I dare to sit up past midnight, even if I’m just lounging on the sofa watching gridiron. But you know what? I seem to remember saying almost exactly the same thing after the SuperBowl last year, so I’m obviously not learning any lessons from my life.

This has been my 2000th blog, by the way. I was hoping to commemorate the occasion with an insightful, meaningful, memorable piece of writing but instead this has turned into the usual waffly bullshit you’ve got used to over the years. Kind of an appropriate way to mark the occasion, I guess. 

RC 6-2-18