I'll have another please

Ok the fact that I am sitting her with a paper crown on my head does not bode well. I always know that I am starting to get drunk when the tip of my nose goes numb. At the moment I feel paralysed from the cheek bones down... not a good sign. So if this makes no sense what so ever I apologise profusely now!
I blame my neighbours who force fed me copious amounts of wine as well as chili, which of course was quite hot so I drunk more even wine and now after telling many baldy stories, I now feel quite tipsy and typing away as if my life depends on it. Actually when I move my eyeballs ceiling wise, I have to grab the chair as I think I'm tipping backwards, so I guess that's not a good sign. Still my physio said I should drink more liquid and it's not my fault that she wasn't specific as to what form the liquid should take... I always do what my physio says!
I know it is New Year's Eve tomorrow, but I should abstain from drinking then as this is day two already of me being drunk and disorderly.
Day one was yesterday and Julie's 54th birthday, sorry 53rd. As her birthday present hadn't arrived, I treated her to see the film 'Burlesque' with Cher and Christina Aguilera both starring. A fab film.
I love Cher, if anyone could get me to bat for the other side it would be her. Then afterwards back to mine to meet the rest of the girls and have homemade soup, birthday cake and a rather gorgeous Hungarian sparkling red wine. Obliviously I drank far too much of that as I found myself telling my friend off for calling my brown coat a 'bag ladies' coat and for saying that I looked old with grey hair and calling my ex darling when he called me as I was serving up the food. I will regret telling my friend off I know, but luckily my ex had realised that I was pissed as he could hear Lynn laughing in the other room.
But today was quite stressful as I am now down to one bar of oxygen supply on my oxygen mother ship and one DD canister. The oxygen delivery chap reckoned that I should get four days out of every bar which at that rate should only get me to Sunday, but as this ratio hasn't worked out so far, I'm not holding my breathe... Hah I can't anyway! When I spoke to him last week, he worked it out that I would have plenty... duh no... I will have wors with you next week young man I can tell you!
When I mentioned this to my physio, she said I could try calling them, but she didn't hold out much hope of them coming out, as I have the concentrator and a rather large back up canister in my bedroom. She admitted that they aren't used to feisty ladies like myself who still want a social life and anyway I shouldn't really be going out in this fog anyway.
This is one of the reasons why I drunk tonight. I will regret it in the morning I know, but until the hangover kicks in... In the immortal words of Bart Simpson... 'eat my shorts!'

Lots of love Debbie x