A Penitent Man

Dear Christ. I’m never going to drink again. Let me say my apologies now to everybody who I pawed, in a blog sense, in the early hours of the morning. The comments I left on your blogs are my dribble on your collar, my sweaty armpit over your shoulder, my stinking garlic bread breath in your face. I feel so terribly bad about it. I can’t honestly remember how many blogs I visited, I seemed to go on for hours. Some of them I haven't even visited before. I just know there were a lot of them. I even dimly recall visiting 'The Wife in the North' but I’m not going to look. I don't want to know what I might have written. I have never been so drunk before in my life. My head is aching, my guts aren’t great, and I’m typing this with one finger, pressing so very gently on the keys. Anything more sends pain shooting through my eyeballs.

I’m thinking of deleting my two drunken posts from last night. They are an embarrassment. I might yet keep them, if only to remind myself how very understanding you have all been in your comments. I really am sorry. This won't happen again.

Gabby is not pleased. There’s a dried pile of Chinese noodles in the hall and the place stinks of soy sauce. The neighbour from the ground floor has already been up to see me. Somebody has vomited over his decking. I think it was me. You probably think it was me. Fortunately, he can’t prove it was me. The oddest thing is that Gabby came out of the bathroom this morning carrying a trombone. I don’t know where I got it, or who it belongs to. I’m going to leave the problem until tomorrow. For now, I’m going back to bed.

I'm so very sorry and so utterly ashamed of myself.