Ooooh-Eh-Eh. Stop the Funbus.

I know this is getting a little tedious, but I am really missing the Husband. 

My major problem with living alone is the lack of laughter.  When the Husband is around I find myself in states of extreme school-girl hysteria quite often, the sort that involves 10 minutes of me laughing at something, then laughing at myself laughing at something, then laughing at the bemused look on the Husband’s face while I laugh at myself laughing at something.  I just can’t reach this level of amusement on my own. I’ve tried but laughing at/to yourself in an empty room is a whole new bag of crazy.

That’s not to say I’ve slipped into the slough of despond in his absence.  Hell no, I have been making friends and going places.  I have been partying like it was 1999.  But after 3 weekends in a row I’ve been ruined by the sad reality that my liver no longer parties in a pre-millennial manner.  After a particularly festive Saturday night at the ‘Pot and Barrel’ (official new drinking hole complete with Afrikaaners, bikers, students, farmers and other delightful randoms) drinking strawberry milkshake tequila shots, Sunday was like a whole new vision of hell.  Luckily I was not alone; I had Avi and Symo (the birthday boy), two survivors of the night, to share my extreme torture.  We lay on the couch/floor/any upholstered surfaces and died slowly with minimal conversation.  The power was out so we had to settle for ‘Blade’ on a tiny laptop screen perched on a coffee table. We all fell asleep.

In my youth I could shake off a hangover in the blink of an eye.  Now they stick to me like shit to a blanket.  At one point I’m sure I felt my liver twitch, probably some sort of death spasm.  In the midst of this self-induced trip to Hades I really missed the Husband, for as a Scotsman and thus alcoholic by birthright he will never mock the hung-over and he is very kind and patient when dealing with the intricacies of ‘Loser complex’ i.e. the Horrors about anything untoward you might have done the night before.

I understand now why people have children A) the tick-tock of ye olde biological clock starts shadowing you like Hook’s Neverland crocodile and B) you get too old for alcoholic beverage imbibition and it’s unfortunate side-effects so you need something besides a hangover to nurture of an early Sunday morn.

It goes without saying that I am never drinking again.  Now if I just had a Husband handy…

(P.S Oooh-eh-eh, is my new favourite expression which must be attributed to my dearest friend Klong.)