Zero discomfort for me today, although I did sleep for longer than usual, went to bed around 03.10, got up at 11.55.
I had one glass of wine with dinner, after driving my wife and her father to our niece’s place for a party, (I wouldn’t go as I didn’t trust that everyone would have had a flow test and I’m taking no chances with this Omicron).
Just as I thought that I was safe to jump into a bottle of Stolychnya, she called at 00.55, asking to be picked up.
Got back home, my father-in-law laid on the stairs coming up from the ground floor to the living room and was soon snoring like a buzz saw, my wife and I had a glass of champagne, then I put an air tight sealing stopper in the bottle and dived into the Stoly, I poured at least three triple measures one after the other and added a soupçon of tonic before giving my Hampsteads a going over with an electric brush and sliding under the duvet.
Last time that I remember feeling yuck was circa 1960, when I went for a drink with the brother of my first wife, (before we were married), he introduced me to gin mixed with sweet red Vermouth, and keen to look like a rough, tough Bermondsey boy to my future brother-in-law I gallantly knocked back 6 or 7 before realising that I was in danger of losing my lunch if I didn’t stop, we got back to my in-laws place okay, but I threw up out of a bedroom window in the middle of the night.
Wonder of wonders, my intended blamed her brother, who protested that I was “big enough and ugly enough to have said no thanks, no more.”