Eeurgh! It's finally happened. Just like for the child - who thinks she'll never grow up then suddenly, unexpectedly, stops thinking The Radio 1 Chart Show is worth tuning in for - there's no going back. The moment I thought would never come has arrived. I thought I was different. That the aging process was going to be different for me than for others. But I'm just the same as everyone else.
Last week I stayed in on Friday night and, on Saturday morning, felt so amazing that I decided that going out and getting drunk is no longer worth it.
On Friday morning I had woken up feeling like I was never going to be able to get out of bed ever again. I felt like I could see clearly that everything in life was hard and pointless and that I was going to just lie in the dark until summer came, feeding off my own reserves of body fat and the occasional fried cheese sandwich. As I'm sure you can guess, I was horribly hung over.
Compare and contrast this feeling with my joyous, sober weekend, wherein I woke up, showered, breakfasted, did some reading, went swimming, went for a beautiful walk in the hills, did more work, watched Extras on th'internet.
My life is changed. I'm going to officially be boring for the rest of my life.
Apart, of course, from this weekend, when my flatmates, my visitors from Cambridge and I are going to a gold-themed fancy-dress party where I plan to paint myself gold and wear nothing but a pair of gold shorts.
But after this one last blow-out, life is never going to be the same.... Honest.
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