‘Tis the season to be drinking. We used to worry about the snogging and the smoking but, these days? Well, have you ever stopped to think about the odd and pointless things you do when you get home, drunk?
Now, you think, is the most absolutely perfect time to be trying on those party dresses you haven’t worn in ten years because now is the absolutely perfect time to do that now. Ooopsy! Fell over trying to do the zip. Whoops – bit stuck in this one. The next morning you wake up half-in, half-out of a really bad bridesmaids dress. When you stand up you realise you took some shears to it at 2 in the morning to turn it from maxi to midi. Amazing you didn’t lose a finger, really. But does it miraculously work now? It does not.
Drunk Bath Running
‘Baths are the best’ is the last thing you think before you pass out. You wake up and realise that you ran it but you didn’t get in it. You used all your nice eye-wateringly expensive bath oil. And now there’s just a grey ring around the tub full of cold, grey water. A metaphor for your hangover. But thank God you turned it off.
It was red and it looked lovely but now it is dead and looks like you’ve stubbed your toe many, many times (maybe you have). So you get home and you just know that this is the perfect time to take it off. You can’t find any cotton pads so grab the loo roll. In the morning the bathroom looks like you’ve murdered someone in it. (Have you?)
And no we don’t mean expensive heels or silly jewellery. But rather things you think you need. Picture hooks that won’t fit. Or vintage French tea cloths (which will make such chic hand towels) but are so stained and so creased by the time they turn up tomorrow (what you ticked next day delivery for £23?) that you will never use them… unless of course you indulge in some…
What you love about staying in a hotel is slipping into pressed sheets so what if you were just to give your sheet a quick iron? Surely that will mean you will sleep for eight hours? Plus you can listen to some improving late night radio while you do it. You spend five minutes looking for the iron before forgetting what you were doing. Thankfully. You leave the radio on all night and wake up to John Humphries barking at someone. You secretly hope that you will have absorbed something clever in your sleep.
You are on a spree, wheeeee, look at your thumb whirring away, liking everything from the accounts of celebrities (Kate Beckinsale, Reece Witherspoon, Millie Bobbie Brown, like like like), to all your friends and then all your ‘friends’ and then random people you don’t know in the ‘you might like this section’. And you comment, why not? ‘Love this’, ‘Great’, ‘Fabulous’, while simultaneously sharing all the memes with your work wife. ‘Us’, ‘Me’, ‘You’, ‘#same’. You wake up to 55 very nervous-making notifications.
Drunk Tinder Cruising
You are single but you shouldn’t be because you are so totally gorgeous. And for once, drunk, you believe it. So off you go, swiping right, starting conversations, sending emojis, putting yourself out there. It’s good, right? It’s positive, yes?
Drunk and Pointless Reading
As you get into bed you wriggle down and grab your improving book – so good, so clever – and wake up with it mashed under your head, dribbled over and who knows if you’ve read anything. In fact you’ve never seen this book in your life. Who bought the book? And why?
It is all perfectly clear. Everything makes sense. You have found the key to your universe, the opening lines of your novel, the beginning of the screenplay you’ve been dreaming of writing, the mantra to live by. In the morning the notes read rtirgjsfbnsgerjogjslca;;cmjsjvrlgjisoplvn.x.