On a scale of 1 - 5....

...This morning's hangover is a 3.8 (see below for details). Put it this way, I struggled to operate the taps in my bathroom this morning, but I have definitely felt worse than this...

Anyway, didn't see the Apprentice last night, had big plans when I got home, but fell asleep in front of Sky Plus. This morning, despite all of your best efforts not to tell me the result (as requested), I see that Ludallen selected Stuart 'the Brand' over Liz. Without having seen the episode (and disliking Liz after her petulance in the house last week post her and Mini Pot's run in, in the board room), I know Stuart should have gone. I can only assume that either:

(a) Ludallen really has lost it
(b) Ludallen has decided who he wants - Mini Pot or Joanna me thinks. Chris the extremely boring investment banker has been on the losing team too many times (though he does talk a good game) to win. Nobody in their right mind would want Forrest (refer to (a), perhaps he does....) - and is keeping Stuart 'the Brand' just to wind us up
(c) The producers, like us, would love to see Stuart 'the Brand' go head to head with the marvellous Margaret Mountford. God I hope the rumours are true and she really will be in the interview episode.

Hangover Rating Scale (not all my own work, I did say I was hungover..)

One - No real feeling of illness but exhausted as your sleep last night was a mere disco nap. You are able to function relatively well, but you are still parched. A tuck load of carbs will sort you out.

Two - No real pain but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a flea (so no change there I hear you cry). The coffee you chug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a bacon sarnie from a motorway service station. Last night has wreaked havoc on your bowels and even though you're acting like you're working, all you really can handle is surfing the internet and writing junk e-mails (or blogs).

Thee - Headache, dodgy stomach and spacing out, so not productive. You have the attention span of something with less of an attention span than a flea. Anytime someone wearing perfume walks past you dry heave as it reminds you of the random shots you did with your alcoholic friends before the bar manager, finally, ejected you... Life would be better if you were in your bed with a dozen bacon sandwiches and daytime TV. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, a liter of Diet Coke - yet you haven't peed once.

Four - Why is Life such a bitch? Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too quickly for fear of vomitting. You reek of booze and the nice clothes you wore
can't hide the fact that you missed a very noticeable spot shaving (if you're a man) or, (if you're a girl) it looks like you put your make-up on while riding a camel. Your eyeballs actually hurt. You would shoot your own Grandmother:
1. If it would make the day miraculously disappear, the clock would strike 5.30pm and it would be OK(ish) for you to sidle out of the office....
2. For the entire Maccy D's menu.
3. For a time machine so you could go back to last and NOT go out.

Five (also known as Dante's 4th Circle of Hell): You are a medical mystery as you appear to have have a second heartbeat in your head. Wine vapour is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you. You would cry but that would use up the last vestiges of moisture left in your body. Death seems like an attractive option. You don't remember who you were with, where you were, what you drank and why there is a (now unaccompanied) stranger still sleeping in your bed. The only thing you can do is pass out.

Off to imbibe (several gallons of) black coffee and carbs now, don't talk to me or make any loud noises...

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