TOOK THE CAKE AND MASHED IT

On Thursday in the pub I drank seven pints, like I told you before. He said, ‘You’re mad,’ when I was just playing, spent more money than I meant and had a row with a transsexual sticking two fingers up at him as I left the pub.
The next morning I had a golden hangover stayed in bed ate codeine drifting in and out of sleep ‘til I had to get up to go to work arriving ten minutes late. She said she had a half day and he said he had the flu and I said to him, ‘go home.’
Did the laundry run sitting in the back of a taxi like someone who could afford one. Had some toast, codeine, napped on the office floor threw up the toast cooked the evening meal and said, ‘I’m off, I don’t feel so good...’
At home I went to bed, codeine headache nausea, put two fingers down my throat to vomit olives as a thick black paste that seemed to crawl out of me and into the toilet.
Slept only for half an hour no more.
Woke up with my head hurting mouth dry sipped some water lay on the bed thinking how awful I felt - poisoned - and how I was going to manage the day coming I wished wasn’t there I didn't think I'd get up...
...but I did get up and got out to go meet him'd come kindly from London having left early to get here on time because she was ill and couldn't make it but the cake he brought with him I didn't eat instead I took it and on my way out mashed it with my hands.