The World According To Me

I had a very proud moment last night, and feel that it's a stepping stone in me finally growing the fuck up.

I went round to my besties' place for dinner with a few other people. Four out of the five people there have law degrees - this is not a foreign situation as 95% of my friends are lawyers (occupational hazard) but one of them was also a barrister and as charming and lovely as he is there was a lot of talking shop. Of course, I rarely get to leave my desk and see what actually happens in Court unless there's a matter I feel particularly interested in or attached to and consequently a lot of the conversation went over my head. So I drank to fill in the gaps, did a bit of nodding and when I felt like I had something vaguely intelligent to contribute I piped up. All good. Only the times where I felt like I had something vaguely intelligent to contribute became more sparse with each glass of champagne that slipped down my throat. We ate a beautiful risotto and continued talking and drinking. At about 11pm I realised I had finished the better part of two bottles of champagne and if I was to have one more glass I would descend into messy, messy badness from which I would never recover. So I stood up, thanked my hosts for a lovely evening and announced that it was time for me to be going home. It turned out to be perfect timing as the barrister felt it was bedtime for him also so we shared a cab and I was asleep before midnight.

The part I was proud of was not the fact that I had two bottles of champagne on a school night, rather that I actually recognised the point at which I could not carry on in the spirit of the evening without making a complete disgrace of myself. AND I CHOSE TO STOP.

Yep, 25 and all grow'd up.

NB. I am still hungover as fuck this morning and there are some fried dimmies in an unclean bain-marie somewhere close by which are fearing for their very existence as I write this.