I was feeling so good last night, after my bowl of garlic,onion, milk soup and dessert of yoghurt favored with raspberry WF jam, that I decided I could do a "night on the town." A middle-aged male band that I know was playing at a bar about 30 minutes away. My husband wasn't game so I took a girlfriend over. The band was a lot better than their sound system, but we were definitely invading somebody's personal "Cheers." -- this was a biker and tatto bar and the smoke was as thick as I been in in YEARS. Good thing hubby did not come, at my bidding, because he can't stand smoke. I can tolerate it, having been a smoker in the past. But it was irritating to know my clothes were soaking it up and that I'd walk in the door at home smelling like I'd been cuddling up with Marlboro Man.
Any way, After an hour I had a diet coke and then we decided to call it quits. The band started at 9 - the usual around here. (How I love the sanity of English Pubs that play music starting at 7 and you can go home by 9. In fact on weekdays, they offten CLOSE then, so nobody has trouble getting up in the morning for work, or has a hangover!)
Anyway, by 10:30 on the ride home, I started to feel lousy -- my stomach was talking back to me and I felt queasy and had a slight headache, maybe it was the smoke? -and it occured to me that I could have read myself to sleep by now, had I been home, and missed this particular nauseating feeling.
MEMO TO SELF: Cinderella of the Last Diet-- get thee to your Pumpkin Chariot and get your butt home before the clock chimes 10 next time!
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