Two Men (and a girl) in a Boat

For some bizarre reason I can’t drink Chardonnay, my mum can’t drink Chardonnay for the same reason, when we do we have a complete personality change and spend the rest of the week regretting what we’ve done/said. In short, Chardonnay turns me from Dr Jekyll into Mr Hyde. Having realised this in not the best circumstances where a friend of a friend incidentally spilt his drink over my Russell and Bromley loafers, instead of smiling and assuring him that it was fine, I merely replied “do you know how much these cost?”. There you go, it is safe to say that I never optionally drink Chardonnay.

What every bottle of Chardonnay should have on it

Where I’m going with this is? Thursday night at the History winter ball I’m happily knocking back my wine with dinner until my friend, Billie, kindly points out that it is Chardonnay. The next morning I unawarely wake up still drunk and have one of those “spontaneous” moments. So I grab my suitcase, pack it with weekend clothes and get a taxi to the station and get on a train to Manchester airport (you can tell my student loan had just come in). As I’m approaching Carlisle my head starts to ache like crazy and I realise that the hangover was setting in as my flat mates are calling me asking me where I am.

Without a plan I do what any hungover, embarrassed student would do and call my mum.

“Muuuum, can you pick me up from Lime Street?”

Needless to say my mum drives over as fast as she can in a panic that I’m pregnant or, even worse, dropped out of Edinburgh.

After a weekend of procrastination and eating home cooked food I’m back on a direct train to Waverley until the train stops at Preston and we are forced to get off due to a broken track where I am delayed for an hour. For those who don’t know, Preston Station is the arse hole of the earth and makes the exterior of Appleton tower look like the Sistine Chapel.

I eventually get back to my flat at eleven o’clock at night, exhausted having done no work nor achieved anything.

The moral of the story? Don’t let me drink Chardonnay.