There was a time in my life where I could go out until the early hours, drink the bar dry and still wake up at 7am and go to the gym. As well as that, I’d then spend a couple solid hours in the library, bang out some lecture notes and then start hustling for people to go out that very night. I don’t know when this stopped being the norm but I can tell you now, none of the above happens anymore. Sundays are spent glued to the bed, breathing heavily and making regular phone calls to Deliveroo, whilst simultaneously cancelling on anyone who I had foolishly made Sunday ‘day activity’ plans with-pah! All can be forgiven on the weekend though and that is precisely what weekends are for; making some rather questionable life choices.
MID WEEK drinking however!! Nothing is forgiven and you spend the following day being mercilessly unforgiving.
‘We’ll only go for one’ said no one ever!
Or in fact said everyone, but their moral compasses are all very much facing south after 9pm on a school night…So, for anyone considering going for a mid-week tipple, let me remind you why mid-week drinking is no longer as feasible as it once was…
- The first thoughts you have that follow this general order:
- I wish I was dead
- I’m not going to work
- I wonder if I message work now they’ll believe me
- It’s too late- I have to go
- Unless I really hammed up my email
- Have I got anything that important on today?
- Cancel everything
- Need a shower
- Need a coffee
- Fuck the Northern Line
- You will spend the day looking like you’re in a constant state of shock
Its true. You will look like that person who has just been told some really bad news, already had the cry and is now slowly piecing their lives together. The whole day will be spent like you’re still trying to digest said bad news and there will be moments spent looking out into space, staring intensely at your stapler or being asked whether you’re ok.
No Simon, I’m not OK you prick- stop drawing attention to my clearly vulnerable state
- You’re useless to just about everybody
You’re putting clients on the cc who definitely shouldn’t be, the pace of your work could rival a slug’s and you’re sentences are so disjointed, people could be mistaken for thinking English isn’t your first language.
- You spend a lot of time making trips to the loo
It’s the only place you can find solace and more importantly hide FROM EVERYONE.
No one in the office could have foreseen your lack of will power as one drink turned into 6 the night before, so they believe their last-minute requests for you to do something are totally justifiable and also doable. But they aren’t, they most definitely are not. As you get that email saying
‘Can you just yada yada yada (approx. taking half the day) yada yada yada (maybe brainstorm with Simon) yada yada (by 3pm today)’
You contemplate throwing yourself out the window.Simon is already waving at you. You’re fucked now.
You are full of regret and remorse. You never thank yourself in the morning and you curse the fact that you chose to make the perilous decision to mid-week drink when the weekend is 3 whole days away. THREE WHOLE DAYS- how will you cope?!
But you’re a soldier after all and somehow you do battle through the after effects of the night before. The weekend then does thankfully come around and suddenly you’re onto the next week. When you get that text saying
On a Tuesday- a Tuesday for Pete’s sake! You reply with the classic:
OK, but just for one
Twenty Mile Club