The End of Dryathlon

Welcome back to weekend normality.

Midnight struck on Friday night and I was back in the game. Special glass in hand, filled with Jack Daniels and coke, and we're away. With the liver of an 18-year old, it was back to lightweightedness, (I've just made that word up - and I like it!) and a relatively cheap night whilst we danced away. It was pretty damn awesome.

Last night wasn't so awesome. I'd fully expected to overdo it on the drinking front but I showed some admirable restraint in the faces of alcoholic adversity, and managed to stay the right side of dangerously intoxicated. The stories lay elsewhere, (of which I'm not going to go into), and it left me feeling angry, sad and brought back some not very nice memories. The problem with being outspoken is that you land yourself in humungous piles of shit every now and then, and I've found myself in the strange situation of potentially ruining one friendship in aid of another. It was quite literally a case of one or the other. Weird. Don't ask.

I woke up this morning then, at the wailing of the alarm clock, after 4 hours of dodgy sleep for indoor cricket. Another strange occurrence is that I have the innate ability to play much better when I just don't care what happens. We were set a target of 154 in 12 overs, (in indoor cricket, that's a pretty good score), and I ended up retiring about 5 overs into the chase on 40. Unfortunately, the rules stipulate you can only score 40, and then you retire, coming back at the end if needs be. In all honesty, I just wanted to go home and go back to bed, so I started out in trying to chase the target as quickly as possible, trying to smack every ball to the back wall without bouncing and a maximum six runs. One of them, if outdoors, would have gone absolutely miles. We won. And we're top of the table. The Bedford boys showing you how its done.

But my mind just can't stop thinking about what was another Saturday night full of stories for the wrong reasons. I had looked forward to this Saturday night for so long, and I was drunk yet perfectly fine until events started unravelling. Its just not nice. I'd much rather dance 'til the bitter end, and the 3am music like B'Witched, Spice Girls and Cyndi Lauper. Instead, I found myself speaking my mind in an all too forceful way, and although I felt exactly the same when I woke up, (confirming it wasn't just a drunken barrage of thought processes), I can't help but wonder if I should have gone about it differently...

Ultimately, girls just wanna have fun...