The memory of today should be enough to put me off alcohol completely for a while. The meds might be a factor, but I haven't had a hangover this bad in a long long time. Then again, I haven't drunk as much in a long long time either. Or stayed up till 04h00 on a dozen different missions.
Cats and birds had me up early. I moved very slowly and carefully. I discovered that baby dove food does not smell good to a hungover person. I took my morning meds, including a jump to 3 Nardil, two days sooner than I am supposed to. P-doc is going to kill me. I managed to achieve very little apart from seeing t-doc, fetching another 3 doves, and feeding the whole gang at the right times.
A year ago, when we tried Parnate the first of the f-ing wonder drugs, I had the only sort of fight that I've ever had with p-doc. 70mg wasn't doing anything, good or bad, and I was begging about going up sooner than scheduled. He was in a bit of a grumpy mood, and didn't need more aggravation from me. He gave me the very firm look, and asked exactly how many hypertensive crises I had successfully managed.He regarded that as the end of discussion clincher. I said that how many I had managed was irrelevant - the actual question should be how many have I had, and the answer to that was zero. Needless to say, we didn't go up a dose any sooner than he had planned.
Part of it is tiredness. I'm far more of a 9 or 10 hours of sleep vegetable than anything else. But the rest is entirely vodka. Evil, evil beverage. I shall avoid it for all eternity. Or at least until tomorrow.
Goodnight from the sore and aching South...