Despite coming very close to being (and I have to use a charming Glasgow phrase here) all tears and snotters earlier in the afternoon, I had a brilliant night and my mascara was remarkably run free.
Admittedly, it didn't look so great in the morning when I realised my eyelids were welded shut and there was a good reason why Kevin had told me to take my make-up off before I went to bed.
It could have been worse, I suppose...
Like that time I woke up in bed after a student night out and thought I'd been paralysed, only to pull back the covers and find that I'd fallen into bed fully clothed and wearing an incredibly heavy pair of roller skates - not just your average 'buckle on over your trainers' type but the full, white leather, lace up jobs.
The morning after the night before...A good example of why I'm better just stopping after the second glass.
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