Monday, August 23, 2010
Hungover, Me?
For those of you that fell victim to my drunken texting last night (I checked my outbox. There were a lot of you, sorry), you'll understand why it is that this morning I'm not feeling too chirpy. If there's one thing that wakes me up properly and makes life worth living again post-big night, it's a really good pot of tea and some gentle comedy.If I'm honest, it's not gentle comedy that I'd go to first of all, it'd be the crime drama's, but this morning alibi (best sky channel in the world) was only showing that episode of Diagnosis Murder where Barry Van Dyke is dating the serial killer rapist bitch. I've seen that one a billion times.
Fill the kettle, I'm having 5 cups at least, but I need to warm the pot first. Up to 6 we go. The kettle's full of limescale, but I'm sure that adds to the taste.. That's gross.
Lift open the lid just before boiling, the thermometer stops working then, and the water boils to super hot. Probably destroying my kettle's fuse, but it means the tea is piping hot. Yum, yum. I like the noise of the water splashing inside the kettle. I'm trying to imagine the warm water washing away my headache, but it's not working.
Warming the pot makes the tea taste better. I fill it half with warm water from the tap and half with boiling water from the kettle. Swill twice and pour it out, singing "I'm a little teapot, short and stout". I think I'm still a little drunk.
Earl Grey tea is the best tea. It smells like cool rain on my aching head. You know those nurofen adverts, where the nurofen speeds to the red target headache and gets rid of it? I have no nurofen, and I don't want to leave the safety of my home to get some. I look like crap. Anyhow, I imagine the sweet clearing smell of the tea is the nurofen and it's speeding to my head.
Three spoonfuls of the purpley tea leaves into the warm pot. Taking this photo was difficult. I nearly spilled the tealeaves everywhere. I don't have much left either, so that'd have been a disaster. Especially since I'm in no way fit to go get more from tesco. Then fill with hot water, I boiled it again to make sure it was super hot.
Stumble back into the living room, it's cosy and dark, and as much as I want to curl up under my blanket again and fall asleep, I've done that before. I always wake up 20 minutes later feeling even worse. Have to open the curtains and let daylight in, as much as it hurts. It feels like it's burning my frontal lobe, but once I stop being a drama queen, I feel slightly better being able to see stuff.
Turn on Frasier. It'd be Diagnosis Murder, but like I said, it's a repeat. I'll watch it until 10.40 when Cash in the Attic starts, that's brilliant hangover tv.
By now the tea should be brewed. I put the strainer on the cup and pour it out. Again, this photo was mad difficult to take, especially since I had my runway edit under the cup. I was so scared I was going to spill it on that holy publication that I set my camera on a timer.
That's a wonderful sight. That teamed with Niles' antics pursuing Daphne makes me feel much better.
This is a better sight. Oreos yum. I justify this by telling myself that I need to replenish my blood sugar. It's mad low at the moment.
Cash in the Attic's on now. I'm going to watch it.
Labels: hangover chat, london days
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