2014, we meet at last.

This time 24 hours ago, I was just walking through the front door. Safe to say I definitely wasn't the first foot in. Greeted with mixed expressions of amusement, disappointment and embarrassment, me and my stinking hangover just wanted bed. I well and truly celebrated new year in style. Okay, no. I didn't. I got blind drunk, showed myself up and then had to play down my drunkenness in company. I never slept, didn't get home, and carried on drinking. I made friends, then enemies with crowds of people, took hundreds of spaced-out photos that you can't even make out, and spent too much money on hard liquor. Instead of arriving home yesterday and seeking bed, food and a shower, I made arrangements to go back out. Officially round two. New Year's Day, it's impossible to stay in for. Even my parents were getting ready to go out, while I struggled to eat anything. I powered through, showered, changed and slapped some make up on, in a desperate attempt to disguise the fact I was in that weird limbo between hungover and drunk. 

Today I'm pale and still shaking. The room is spinning, and every time I get up, it feels like I'm moving far too fast. Needless to say, I don't even want to think about any more alcohol for at least another week. Every part of my body hurts. I've greeted 2014 with a horrible hangover and unsure smiles, sambuca and sleep-deprivation. The radio is shouting and acting as some sort of motivational voice, and yet, I'm just lying in bed feeling overly sorry for myself. My feet are sore, I'm severely dehydrated and I can't shift this feeling of queasiness hanging around so unwelcome. I'm happy though. Very happy. Even if I am in so much pain. I think I need a brisk walk in the January sun and shift these blues. Apparently January blues are alcohol-inflicted. Or at least they are in my case. I saw the new year in very messily, and yet, I'm happier than ever. I've not stopped smiling in about two days straight. My liver is crying out for sobriety, my head wants painkillers and my muscles just want to shrivel up and die. Rough times. Curled up with puppy in bed, today is officially a write-off. HAPPY NEW YEAR.