strawberrri.diaryland.com
Dreams can't come true
2003-02-20 | 2:55 p.m.

Mhh...woke up today with a - you've guessed it! - hangover. I reckon I've completely lost any tolerance I ever had to alcohol. Or it could be the fact that I drink wine now, and vodka, sometimes both at once, rather than alcopops and snakebite. I managed to erm, 'be ill' at my union AGAIN last night. They should hand out medals to the people who've puked up the most times in there. I'd get the gold.

It was Jo's birthday yesterday and the poor kid didn't even make it as far as the union. Four bars down the line and she was vomiting into a dustbin and had to go home.

Still, I don't feel unwell now, just incredibly spaced out, which is kind of nice. And I'm going to both my lectures today, which will mean that I've gone to all of my lectures this week and I'm proud.

Also, does anyone else find that alcohol makes you have the trippiest dreams? I dreamt that I needed to turn into a fly and had to go around collecting food so I could survive five months in a coccoon.

I'm odd - I certainly don't need anyone to point that out to me.

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