Good Morning My Little Shower Of Shit

I'm in a bad mood today. I'm in a *gloriously* bad mood. I'm in a swearing at random people on the train, shouting at traffic and glowering at my colleagues Bad Mood. I'm in such a Bad Mood that I'm actually *enjoying* being in a bad mood. Which sort of defeats the purpose of a Bad Mood - it's a bit like rooting for the bad guys in Bond films so you don't get scared by the tension.

I have a hangover. This is an apalling state of affairs considering how little I drank last night. I scowered my cupboards until I found the bottle of good South African red I hid around my last birthday. I intended merely to have a glass while I was cooking Special Soup (last night I added oyster mushrooms to the mix - heavenly) but, after over a month of sobriety, halfway through it I was well on my way to be schnockered. This is outrageous! The body is not equipped to handle six weeks of not drinking; it saps the constitution and weakens the liver's ability to process booze.

However, I do feel like myself again. Sod sobriety and SSRI's and anger management and the fluffy version of Kate that my shrink would like to propegate. Today I am enjoying being a curmudgeon.