HANGING LIKE A BAD PAINTING

Crisis I’m tired. No wait, that’s being too kind to the situation. Although being tired is part of my problem this morning, it pails in comparison to the sumo wrestlers on my eye lids, the jack hammer in my brain and my poor liver screaming it’s little heart out “Why Crazii, Why? And on a Sunday, what were you thinking!”. Now I can answer that question quite simply. I wasn’t! Thinking that is… I was however downing a number of beautiful little heaven in a glass blackcurrant bubbles and sucking oh so joyously on those little cancer sticks in a box.

I’ve decided the cigarette manufactures need to put appropriate warnings on their boxes. I am not pregnant or breastfeeding, therefore I am not concerned about the effect smoking will have on my baby. I am however young (and judging by how I feel this morning, stupid) and would like to know, that should in excess of 2 of these little suckers be consumed in one sitting, coupled with some liquid poison I will, without fail, wake up with the sensation that my mouth feels like the inside of Gandhi’s flip flop! Walking around the office trying to pull your tongue off the roof of your mouth while simultaneously trying to explain to your boss why your hair looks like you had a play date with a plug point and your make-up couldn’t have made an iota of effort in hiding last night remnants is just not a good look. Ever. On anyone. So while I try and make myself more presentable to the general human population, here’s wishing you all a good Monday. I hope it’s better than mine!