Saturday 4th February 2012. Green in the gills.

Oof.

That’s all I can say. I hope this turns out not to be a regular thing. If they expect me to keep up with this and go out more than once a week, they’ve got another thing coming. It’s just not sustainable. My fragile health (which I am loathe to go on about too much, my Dubai book resembles a medical journal at times) really can’t take this punishment, so I have to be sensible and restrict myself to the occasional night out, or I will regret it in the long term.

Still, I know what I need today, and that’s a good old English fry-up. A guy called Mike who works for one of the subbies was out with us last night and mentioned a cafe called the Green Vespa down at the Riverside, so I have arranged to meet up with him at the site then go for a breakfast. They tell me they’re the best in PP.

Mike is right. The breakfast is spot on. We have the Half Monty, which is more than adequate. There’s bacon, eggs, sausage, beans and toast, and it comes with bottomless coffee and orange juice for the princely sum of seven dollars. There is actually a Full Monty on the menu, but that is monstrous, by all accounts. The Half does me fine, and I go home feeling reasonably OK. I forget that I get delayed hangovers in my 40s, and an hour after I get home I am laid on the sofa feeling pretty gruesome. I have got a bad case of the runs once again, and can’t be sure if it’s something I ate or just the excesses of last night. By 6pm things have settled down a touch, and I manage to cook myself some food. By cooking I mean I fry an omelette and boil some water to put into a pot of instant noodles. It does what it needs to do, which is to quell my hunger, and I spend the rest of the night watching my freaking sweet Family Guy DVDs, only stopping to have a quick chat with the wife and kids on skype.

It’s back to work tomorrow, and I won’t be touching a drop of alcohol until next weekend. Scout’s honour.