There were two nice hours last night. They were when I discovered that I could block the pain of my wisdom tooth with cheap whisky and fags.
Unfortunately, after two hours I was pissed, so fell into bed, praying for oblivion.
Instead my tooth woke me up a couple of hours later. And then, three hours after that, it woke me again.
So. It's 4am. I'm staring miserably at my pale, pus-and-blood-streaked reflection in the mirror. And I'm thinking "This can't get worse."
Then my boiler explodes and floods the flat.