A question occurred to me the other day and I thought I’d put it out there to see what you think.
Is the morning after worth the night before?
Last Saturday night I, and a large group of friends went on a night out. The mood was light and celebratory. They kicked off the night at six thirty but sensible old me decided not to join them until after eight, for fear I’d peak a little early.
Initially the night was tame and we even pondered going home at the sensible hour of eleven o clock. However by ten o clock our humour was high and the mere mention of going home was enough to cause a stampede to the bar for another drink. We were eventually collected at closing time, reluctantly saying goodbye to each other as if we were never to meet again, instead of within days.
There is a real plus in having older children who can drive. Karma comes their way and we call in our debts as parents for all those times we gave them lifts. However there is also a down side. They are there as witnesses to our high humour and are more than happy to inform the others in the family the following day, of what we said or did.
Thankfully I didn’t do anything too awful, apart from asking my daughter when exactly she bought a red car? (I was with her months ago when she did) and calling her ‘Sister pious’ when she laughed at me. On arrival home I decided I’d watch TV for a little while before making myself a cup of tea. Little did I know that I subsequently entered some sort of time bubble, and woke on the couch ‘moments’ later to discover it was 3.30 am. Yer man upstairs must have entered the same bubble because he was fast asleep and hadn’t even missed me. I eventually got into bed smiling as I replayed so many great memories from the night.
Sadly that was the last smile on my face for some time!
I awoke the next day totally wiped. No I’d not contracted the Ziko virus or man flu. This was the result of wine. As himself smiled smugly, being the non drinker he is, and enjoyed updating me hourly on what a lovely day it was outside, I wondered how long before I killed him. It was around about then the question occurred to me,
‘Was it worth it?’
Was the fun, the craic, the camaraderie and the high of a night with alcohol worth the low?
In the interests of further study, and because I’m such a civic minded person, I have another night out this weekend. For contrast I intend to drink wine once more, but avoid certain friends of bad influence, and pace myself better. As a result I hope to be in a position to greet ‘Mr Smug I don’t drink’ with a winning smile next Sunday morning.
I will be sure to keep you informed with my results. If you decide to partake in your own study, feel free to let me know. We can compare findings.