In the morning, I kind of freaked out when the first thing I saw was The Young Dutchman, standing over me, gently shaking me awake. I guess it tells you something about our relationship, that it came as quite a shock and totally freaked me out. (I guess it tells you something about my relationship with The Young Dutchman that, as close as we are, the sight of his face first thing in the morning was slighly panic-inducing? I never ever want to go there). Then the vague outlines of the previous night came back to me, and I was able to be a good hostess and see him out.
Unfortunately, I was still so spaced out that I didn't take this cue to also wake up my cousin, and as a result she TOTALLY overslept her flight back to the US. Luckily she was able to get on another one later that day, but it definitely would have been wiser to go home earlier and drink a lot less the night before! Still, it gave us a chance to go for lunch at a nice pub in town, and get some food into her before it was time for her to go.
Finally I saw her off to the airport, and then went out to join friends for the England vs. Ireland rugby match, although I was just so tired through the whole game. (No hangover really, but I was exhausted, as you never sleep well when you've had too much to drink). Ireland won the game, dashing England's hopes for a grand slam victory, so in addition to my exhaustion the game was a bit of a disappointed. Made polite chit-chat after the match until somebody noted that I looked absolutely wrecked, and so claimed that as my excuse to go home. Makes me wonder what on earth happened to that "no hangover" rule, which I've obviously been violating in a pretty bad way. Time to drink a bit less, go home and get some more sleep!
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