i shared a bottle of wine.
then i had a pint.
then a half of cider.
now. normally i'd be fine.
but today was no a normal day.
i hadn't eaten.
the husband picked me up from the pub. i promptly went to bed. and slept for two hours.
now, we were meant to go out to a nice romantic dinner. upon waking me up my husband was met with tears. and tears. and more tears. i felt awful. sick and sick and just not well at all.
he tucked me back into bed. went out to the restaurant and explained that his wife was ill and would not be able to come out for dinner.
the restaurant (which is a pub and wine bar we often frequent, where our adorable gay neighbor works) was very kind and sent him home with his dinner uncooked so he could pop it in the oven at home and take care of me. they also sent him home with a bottle of wine.
i love this town.
i love my husband. even though i feel ill, he has been sweet and understanding.
i feel like crap for ruining our dinner. but he is so sweet that i almost don't notice that i've ruined it.