We were night and day this morning.
He may as well have been single-handedly performing "A Chorus Line". I, on the other hand, had a throbbing head, and the desire to muffle him with a pillow. Not smother, just muffle. I sat, a dour lump wrapped in a blue bathrobe, trying to smile when appropriate from my place on the couch and to supress the urges to kill while I collected myself.
Observation number one: Never trust Beau-Frere's wine. He may tell you it's good. It may taste Just Fine. Regardless, it will give you a horrible headache, because Beau-Frere likes to drink a LOT of wine so you can bet that even if it doesn't taste so bad, it's plonk. Be polite and have a glass, but then follow boyfriend's lead and switch to Perrier. You too can be disturbingly chipper the following morning.
Observation number two: It is gorgeous outside, including a blue (BLUE! NOT GREY!) sky. Why does this always seem to coincide with hang-overs?
Observation number three: It is not a good idea to drink, when you already are struggling to remain in your size 26 jeans. Alcohol is not calorie-free, sadly.
Observation number four: Getting up the strength and motivation to go for a run on a day like today is haarrd. But after two cups of coffee, two buns with European-style-peanut-butter-fail-spread, three bottles of water, a pain-killer, and a bowl of soup... I think I might be able to get out there by ... noon? maybe?