Sometimes a hangover is unexpected. Sometimes it's well-deserved. And stealthy.
Last night, in preparation for a few days away, I had the joy of minesweeping my own kitchen - half a bottle of cava, little bit of rose, dregs of some vodka. You know, like a one-man hen night. I'm reading a biography of Margaret Rutherford, and, as she was almost teatotal (preferring an evening plate of bacon and eggs) it somehow felt like I was drinking for the both of us.
In the book Ned Sherrin describes her holding court at a party, taking bird-like sips at a sherry and smacking her lips while declaring "Ambrosia, sheer Ambrosia!"
I did not take bird-like sips.
Anyway, I woke up this morning feeling fine, which was nice... and then... as I opened my email, felt a sudden sinking sensation. This is normally how email makes me feel, so I pressed on. One email was from the ever-so friendly manager of my gym. It was a breakfast recipe:
4 ounces of oats uncooked ( people who has allergy to wheat choose gluten free oats)
4 tablespoons slivered almonds ( people who has allergy to almonds use other type nuts)
2 cups organic natural yogurt
2 cups cottage cheese
Cottage cheese? That did it. It was fate's way of telling me to go out and get a bacon sandwich.
Sparkling Cyanide (1945)
1 year ago