Hangover Day

40-watt bulb light dimmed even more behind the lampshade. Dull overhead light. Listening to The Perc meets The Hidden Gentleman album 'Postcards from the Meantime'. Last echoes of a melancholy hangover hollowing out my body. My rooms feels haunted and old tonight. Alone in the flat, I feel lost in time, like I have been in this room for decades. Hangovers do that to you.
Fag-end of the year, last few drags of these smoked out days.
Works party last night, Christmas dinner for the call centre. Some restaurant I can't remember; cold sprouts, dry turkey. Pretty foul but I ate it all. Lager, red wine, white wine, champagne, cider, rain. Went to karaoke afterwards. Stuffed in a room while everyone shouted to songs I can't remember. A strange pleasure. Then to the casino afterwards where I gambled nothing, but stared at the cruise-ship like interior, and all those set faces at the roulette table, the fruit machine, and all the other devices installed designed to lose your money.
I gambled nothing.
Afterwards, walking up New Church road, I pull out my phone to look at the time, and am surprised to discover that it is nearing 4:00am.
Long sleep, disquieting dreams I couldn't recall on waking.
Time for a cup of tea, some cheese on toast, and to leave this room I've been in for decades.