...and straight into the lard. I think I've pretty much confirmed my own suspicions that mid-week drinkies lead to morning-after pig outs and, MAN, have I pigged out!
But back to last night. I've also come to the realisation that post-work nights out are a completely different ball game now I'm a director. I joined my company as an office junior seven years ago and for the most part, nights out have been pretty much carefree, if not a little messy. Since I recruited office juniors of my own, however, something's changed. I shouldn't be surprised I suppose, but the funny thing is that although I've been constantly moving up the ladder, the change has only happened in the last month or so.
This is the pattern that's happened the last few times:
First couple of drinks: everyone's relatively sober, chatty, inoffensive and it's a nice social affair without hierarchy. The main topic is those general work gripes that everyone joins in with. Feels like we're all in it together etc etc. Nothing's changed here, it's always been like this. So far, so good.
Three or four drinks: people start filtering off (mainly the drivers and mums) leaving the people who live in town to carry on the party. People start revealing what they really think of each other (usually about those who've left). The usual work gripes turn into individual work issues and worries about certain projects, careers or working relationships with bosses or clients. Again, this is entirely usual for a night out, but now the dynamic has changed. Instead of it being a chat, it's now a review - I've had four large glasses of Pinot and they actually want proper grown up advice rather than the usual sincere and drunken assertions that they're bloody brilliant, anyone would be lucky to have them and they should just tell any haters to screw themselves. And the ridiculous rumours start to surface, the ones you can't believe anyone fell for let alone got upset about, such as 'Jackie told everyone you said she was your favourite'. I mean COME. ON!
After quite a few drinks: Picture the scene - my junior is loudly introducing me to all her friends as her boss (that still weirds me out. One mention of being a boss in a social setting and I start to feel like a complete corporate dork) and keeps butting in to conversation to say that really likes me and to tell me which individual instances of my management she's particularly liked so far. All very nice, but all rather awkward. Another colleague is slowly getting off her face and keeps stroking my arm in order to get my attention every time someone else speaks to me. She suddenly bursts into tears and keeps saying she's terrible at her job, the MD hates her, she's ugly and disgusting, and I need to help her. All this forces me to be rationale and supportive, again not in the drunken you're-bloody-brilliant-you-are kind of a way, but in a more constructive let's-look-at-x-client-together-tomorrow and see how we can improve things together kind of a way.
The evening ended with the junior earnestly asking me if it was ok for her to go off and have sex with a guy (yes, she actually phrased it 'is it OK to for me to have sex') and the cryer getting so battered she could barely talk (small mercies), literally ricocheting from wall to wall when she attempted to walk. I had to wrestle her phone off her to get her fella to come and pick her up, but not before pretty much carrying her through the bar to the unsupportive jeers of other drinkers.
She tells me that when she reached home she stumbled out of the car and fell into a bush. She's got scratches all down her side.
And do you know what the kicker is? Not so long ago, those two examples of hideous, embarrassing drunken behaviour would have been me all over. Only a couple of years ago I fractured my ankle falling off a stage where I was dancing at an awards do. Not my best moment, admittedly, and I would be mortified if I'd behaved the way my colleagues did last night, but being the designated adult every time is simply no fun. I'm actually a little envious that they came into work this morning completely shame-free and nursing god awful hangovers.
And this brings me to my own post-drinks shame - although I felt sober by the time I got home, I still got the morning-after munchies: toast and a chocolate bar for breakfast, a chicken slice, prawn salad and chocolate cornflake square for lunch and, randomly, a sausage roll, two mini pork pies, a packet of Wotsits and a Twirl just sitting in my bag because in my wide-eyed scavenge for food I honestly thought I could eat all those other things too!
I feel sick from the crap I've eaten and guilty for not having the willpower to make more sensible choices. I need to get a grip and get back on track before this runs into a habit. In fact, can I get a do-over? Hold the wine this time...
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