Even though Saturday was a beautiful day and I was pretty well rested---and had, of course, had nothing to drink the previous night---I had a splitting, partially blinding headache all day, the kind you associate with a hangover: right behind the eyes, unshakable, malicious. After the auction, I went for a short but brisk run in the late-afternoon warmth (80 degrees!), in order to try to shake the ache loose, and then went to work. At work, I feel compelled to add, a guest brought in a couple of rare wines, and I confess (this Lent procedure being a Catholic thing) that I had a sip of the Bollinger 1998 pre-phylloxera special bottling (wow), and another of a Chambolle 2001 "Les Amoureuses" (another installment in my ongoing, what-is-wrong-with-me failure to "get" Chambolle; I've had basic Bourgogne Rouge that gave more pleasure for far less money).
Headache subsided, then returned, with a criminal vengeance, by 10:00. I popped some ibuprofen before bed and felt better today, but seem to have pulled a muscle or something on the top of my foot. Had to take it easy. Limping.
Which leads me to this: is not drinking having an indirect but powerful effect on my corpus? Have I gotten accustomed to it in such a deep way that not having alcohol could give me a weird, apparently sourceless headache, which could in turn lead obliquely to a compensatory run that would result in an injured foot? Maybe it isn't that I'm having a direct reaction to an alcohol-free period, but a second-order one instead, defined by domino-effect problems. Maybe this is what a modest but incessant pattern of use leads to: ramified, fragmented consequences, rather than DT's and sneaky benders. Food for thought, or rather, wine.
I said last time that I had made a little breakthrough, a discovery, an illumination of sorts. Didn't get to that in this entry. Will next time.