A mid week tiple

After being stressed at the Fish Factory, where I spent an entire day not being able to actually get on with any work, I decided the next day (today) would not be the same.  That I'd get up late, go into work late, take a long lunch and leave work early  Being at the end of one's tether leads to taking half drastic actions.  So I have barely worked six hours.  This was followed by a visit to the pub and 4 pints of some very nice tasting cider.  Pears cider to be exact.  I enjoyed it.  Had a conversation with a fellow middle fish who is liable to giving more away in the direction of inside knowledge in a pub than in the Fish Factory and eventually making a nuisance of myself with unwanted text messages to Sparkling, Rock Chick and L & B Man.  All of whom I had indicated in earlier text messages not to answer the phone if I rang because I was drunk.  They all took me up on my word and none of them answered the phone when I rang.  I was half inebriated but could of had some kind of partially sensible discussion.  Well if you are drunk any kind of discussion is actually viewed as being sensible. It was probably good they didn't answer the phone, but in the off chance they would hear messages I left two sets of messages.  Or maybe three.  It's hard to count after the cider had gone down so easily.  I must try and not be an idiot after a drink.  But hell everyone else gets drunk and makes an idiot of themselves so I am entitled to as well.  It might be mid week, but I don't play by the rules, and certainly not after 4 pints of Pears cider.  At which point any kind of rule book is thrown out of the window just as the bath is thrown out with the water.

So after half a packet of biscuits, an three cups of tea I am beginning to approach some form of sobre.  Not enough however to do some real Fish Factory homework.  Enough to talk sensibly on a phone, but I can't because no one will answer my phone calls. Sod it. The motto is, don't drink and expect anyone sobre to answer the phone, not mid week anyway.