We were at my inlaws cabin by the sea again for four days this weekend. "Oh, we thought in advance, we'll finally resurrect our extinct sex-life!" Until I woke up on Thursday morning sniffling like an allergic bloodhound, and sneezing over anyone I came in to contact with.
Mistress claims she doesn't find virus infections sexy. Imagine that.
For once I didn't either, actually. My body seems to be a bit strange that way at other times - whenever I get a cold or a hangover, I get desperately horny. Unfortunately my prospective partner in any horny-related activities doesn't share my feelings, and have a more sensible idea that I should drink lots of water and rest. I want her to boink my skull off, she wants me to shut up and rest 'til I'm healtny again. Spoil sport.
Any way, we had a good long week end but without much excitement. Except for Sunday night when I finally managed to convince Mistress that we should sneak away in the car to the nearest gas station and get us some chips and beer. After two days at the same place, I was having cabin fever (literary, very funny), and was dying for some diversion (since I wasn't going to get to go to the movies nor get whipped and fucked, I at least wanted a beer to our Harry Potter-movie on the laptop...).
Do you know what happens when someone, say for example me, take anti-depressants, metylphenidate (that's ADHD-medication, like ritalin for example) and combines it with even a very small amount of alcohol? Bad things. Very bad things.
I mean, it does say so on the package. It says "don't combine with alcohol". But... somethings I just have to try by myself. What happened was that I was starting to feel queasy, went to bed and woke up a couple of hours later and had to run outside to... yeah. Hurl. Gross gross gross.
Also, no running water at our small (tiny, really, just a cupboard) cabin down by the pier, and no water closet or shower at the whole place.
And the whole of next day I had a hangover, with head ache and nausea, without even getting the benefit of a) having been drunk or b) drunk anything good or noteworthy. So, yeah. I guess I'm going to be a rather involuntary teetotaler in the future. And I don't want to!
The anti-depressants are a temporary thing, I hope, though my mother eats something similar permanently and has done that for the last ten years or so, so I might be in for the same fate (rather medication than recurring depressions, any day). The metylphenidate however helps with my ADHD-symptoms, and I have no reason to believe they will ever lessen or that I at some point wont benefit from the medication.
The next experiment will be to see what happens with me if I skip the ADHD-meds for two days, and drink on the night in between. I like the meds, they make me get through my days much easier and with much less effort, but it would be nice to know that I have a choice, that I could have alcohol at special occasions. Both me and Mistress are a bit of whisky-aficionados, and I would grieve if our beautiful bottles of Caol Ila and Laphroaig and Glenfiddich would be out of my reach for the rest of my life. And I got a bottle of real champagne at my graduation party, and I would like to be able to drink it one day, perhaps at our six-year anniversary in August. It's not about the amount in any way, but to not be able to have even one glass without puking feels a little sad.
Ah well. If my problems aren't bigger than this, I guess life is pretty okay right now.
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