Boy did I have a hangover this morning.
As a result, I have spent much of today staring blankly at my PC screen, in between drinking glasses of water and pegging out washing in the sunshine.
We had some mates round for dinner last night; I didn't think I'd had a huge amount to drink, but apparently I fell asleep on the sofa as soon as they left, and had to be woken by Mr WithaY to go to bed. I seem to recall that I ran up the stairs, loudly stating that I was sleeping in the spare room, and then crashed out gracelessly until 4am, when I woke up with the hot and cold shivers and the feeling that I was about to throw up. I didn't, but was too sleepy/pissed to get up and go to the bathroom just in case, so lay awake, feeling queasy and sweaty by turns.
Bet you wish you'd been there, eh?
Oh, and the clocks changed overnight so I now have no idea what time it is, adding to the whole surreal experience.
Anyway. Before the evening developed into a near-death experience, it was all very nice. I made a cherry clafoutis for dessert, which I hadn't attempted before. Was bloody great, and remarkably easy.
It's basically a deep buttered dish filled with a sweet pancake style batter with a load of cherries spread through it, baked in the oven for an hour or so. The batter rises a bit and surrounds the fruit, and the whole thing is pleasingly light yet soggy. Or maybe that was just my cooking.
It's been a beautiful day, although bloody cold in the late afternoon when I was bringing in the washing. But, now that I think about it, maybe that was just me, being tired and a bit queasy still.
I am far too bloody old to get that drunk. It takes me 24 hours just to start feeling normal again! Gah.