Recovery

Well, I am now rested and a some way restored. I managed to make it as far as 1:30, before realising that there was very real danger of me falling asleep right in front of the lecturer, and so I bolted out of the class. Thankfully, I was near the door. Hopefully the Boots teacher/practitioner won't remember me the next time he sees me.

Yesterday was a mixed day. Biology sucked. I underestimated this one and suspect I will suffer consequences. I'm in no hurry to find out the results. The test was divided into two consecutive sessions with the same paper for both. I was scheduled for the second. Just before the end of the first one, a girl in my class came out with the paper for the year before, explaining that the variation between the two was almost non-existent, and I should learn off the answers marked on it (this was also an MCQ). She left it with me, but unfortunately I have scruples when it comes to these things, and didn't take advantage of this opportunity. I fear my honesty will be rewarded with a less than stellar mark, but we'll see. At least it wasn't terribly important, and I can make up the marks later.

Then I met Danny after and we headed to the library. I finally solved the previously mentioned equation (Divide across by 'y', Denis, you utter plank!) with his help, and since we were technically ahead of our self-imposed schedule, we decided to hit the pub at around 6, with the intention of returning at about 9.

Big mistake.

By the end of the night, I was losing spectacularly at pool (difficult to make the balls go where you want them when you are trolleyed) and exhibiting almost sociopathic tendencies. My progress here now always follows a rock solid pattern.

a) Sobriety, social functionality.
b) Merriness, enhanced social functionality
c) Inebriation, complete withdrawal into private world, characterised by staring off into the distance, oblivious to what is going on around me.

The last one has become a defining characteristic, with some of my old friends calling this world 'DenisLand'. In one sense it's not bad, as it coincides with 'noxiousness and loudness' in most other people, but I find it very hard to engage socially when I've had quite a few, unless the other party is completely demanding my attention. I've been like this for years, and wonder how this habit came about. I've actually lost friends over it, though admittedly I look back now and think that considering who they were, I'm well rid of them.

I'm seriously thinking of giving up drink soon, or at the very least cutting it down to special occasions only. It's expensive, the following day is a write-off, and it's incompatible with my goals in the gym. The only thing is that it is very hard to get through seven days without having a drink in there somewhere. It's ingrained in me to let off steam at some stage (why, I'm not sure: It's not as if I'm suffering from work-related stress). Nevertheless, I'm almost thirty, and my liver is not as robust as it once was.

I shall have to give this some thought. That, and I have to stop kidding myself with this 'just the one' philosophy. I have never left a bar after just one. Ever.