Remind me not to drink Red Bull again when I go out. I lay awake for two hours, yesterday; fully conscious. Lying there, I started thinking in French, building French sentences, and I wasn't even drunk. My French seems to slowly come back to me which is no surprise when you spend time with three people who start babbling in French when they talk to each other.
Although Cecilia is nice enough, she either seems to be really shy and as though she needs some time to warm up or maybe she simply is a quiet person. Apparently, she is not used to drinking alcohol, since she didn't even know what to order at the pub. When Sandra, Ben and me got started, she was already done for the evening. Not that she was drunk, she just didn't want anything else after her first drink, not even a soda. Not so for Sandra and me. There are signs that indicate that you drink too much; if the bartender recognises your face and asks whether you want the same again, you should question your consumption. The same goes for you knowing exactly what the combination for all of you will cost, you tell the bartender how much it is and have the money ready.
Ben and Sandra have invited us over for dinner today and I told them I'd bring some beer (at least, I'll be able to sleep). Looking out of the window, though, I don't feel like going to the supermarket at all. It doesn't rain, but is windy as hell and I don't quite fancy that. But then, I'm looking forward to Ben's cooking, so the trip to Waitrose might be worth the effort.
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