I lost half of today. I spent the morning slightly hungover. And then made the mistake of grabbing a sandwich from a corner shop in Stockwell. One of those shops where the sandwiches are on the counter, and there’s a mad man standing outside on the phone, shouting hands-free to Jesus.
Now, I’ve heard people say “It’s not a hangover, it’s food-poisoning”, and never believed them, but, oh dear god… All of a sudden, at two in the afternoon, my body started compulsively vomiting. In an explosive and rather boring way that went on for hours.
The worst bit was going to a recording of The Now Show, and having to run out into the street to throw up. I found an empty parking space to heave into, and had a merciful few seconds of peace, before someone started parking their BMW. I staggered out of the way, and thankfully passed out for a bit. Then brushed myself off, and trotted into the recording.
Now, I’m blaming the sandwich, but also admitting that, if I hadn’t been a bit hungover, I wouldn’t have brought it. It was “sausage and creamed chicken” – only a fool would have bought it..