Fragment #4 - Hangover & Tea party

Today has been the worst day ever. Starting at 10, but even so, I was feeling so hangover at 8 that I had no idea I would be able to get out of my bed. But I don't think “I've been partying late last night” is a good excuse for not going to work when what you do for a living is educating young people. I just feel bad, and promise myself, once again, that I won't be going out again during the week. I promise. I don't want to be in front of pupils with my head hurting like it's going to explode at anytime again. People have no idea how dry your mouth can be at the end of a class. I'm talking about everyday class. Today, it was like I had the Sahara purring out of my mouth. Filling, drying, burning everything. I had red eyes the whole day, but it's been easy to play the “I've seen my ex-boyfriend” card with my colleagues and pretend the red eyes were only the consequence of a long bit of crying.
I'm back home, it's five and Claire has left. I've got the flat for myself, and decide I deserve a nice hot shower, some cheesy music. I turn on the TV and switch to the MTV channel. I fix myself a cup of tea; take a chocolate cupcake in the cupboard. I'm thinking about last night, and nothing comes up. Maybe that's my answer: it might just be too late for Steven and me. I don't really care; my head is still hurting so much. I am going to the bathroom and… Someone is ringing at the door and it just sounds like someone is screwing something right into my head. I should think about drinking a bit less. It happens to be MarK. My friend Mark! Totally forgot to call him since I'm back. A colleague, Math teacher, I met during my first placement when I was doing my teacher training, the first school where I had to stand in front of a class, and he has been really supportive. We used to hang out a lot, sharing our experiences as new, young and inexperienced teachers, telling each others our love lives, trying to find in friendship the way to fix the disappointments we had with our lovers and families. Friendship, the kind of relationship I'm good at. I let him in, and now he is scolding me.
“How come you didn't call me? I have been waiting for you to come back, you know it!”
He tells me how he has seen Claire at the bar yesterday night and how she told him I was back, that he could just try to drop by the flat and see me today.
“She didn't tell me. I actually haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon.”
And then is the question:
“By the way, how was your party last night? She told me you were with Steven, are you back together or what?”
“Well not really... Have a seat. Do you want a cup of tea? We've got plenty of things to talk about.”
It's always good to see an old friend. Even more after a bad day.