Hangover... mindweeping

The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster: ‘an alcoholic beverage considered by the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to be the "Best Drink in Existence” … effects similar to having your brains smashed in by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick … you should never drink more than two Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters unless you are a thirty ton mega elephant with bronchial pneumonia.’

Fancying myself just such a beast suffering from just such an ailment (almost), I had a few of these each of the past five nights (don't tell my nutritionist!). I don’t remember much from the first two except the nausea. The morning after the third, a new fastest 5k time for 2015, but wow did it knock me out. The day after the fourth, a trip to the other side of the city felt like an odyssey to the other side of the world (wait, it kind of was; we crossed the meridian line at Greenwich). Yesterday, I confess that in a moment of weakness I chose The Wire over the Word at Mass. Today, in contrition, after what ‘alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity’, I realised the Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters were actually Temozolomide, a chemotherapy drug which works much the same way as the Blaster: by aiming to blast everything in your body except you ... but note the jolly colours and friendly 'Temodal' brand name.

A good time to remember Murakami: ‘pain is inevitable, suffering is optional’.  

And a good time for a glass of red wine: 23 days until Temo time returns.

Cheers!! My nutritionist would approve.

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