I'm feeling rougher than a porcupine's bum at the moment. I'm also still simmering away with inchoate, frustrated anger, caused by stress and illness. And the fact that it's the middle of January.
Last night, turfed myself out of the house, as the wife had friends round, clucking over the baby and chit-chatting. Went up to my local. What excitement.
Had three pints of London Pride, six cigs and, on returning home, a shot of raki.