My poor poor stomach

Self inflicted pain is the worst kind (no tittering at the back). I was out from lunchtime with work for our summer night out. It started with lunch and then a poor tournament. It was a long long day and even though I won the pool tournament that was not enough to help my poor stomach this morning.

On a scale of 1 to ropey I was ropey. The worst thing about this was that I was playing pitch and putt in Tallaght at 1.30 and my bike was in town, and I was in no fit state to use it even if it had been on hand. So I lumbered onto the bus to Hueston Station (I took a picture of it on my phone but I have no idea how to get it from my phone to my computer!). Every stop had people, loads of people, all asking questions, all paying with a sock full of tuppences. The bus took ages despite there being little or know traffic.

I eventually got to Heuston and although my stomach felt rough, I thought a short trip on the luas to Tallaght wouldn't do me any harm. Well anyone who uses Luas and fast in a sentence without using not or isn't is mad. It was dismally slow and getting stopped at traffic lights on a tram is just plain stupid. So I got to Tallaght late and then had to walk, actually run to my destination.

Is it any wonder I played badly??

I've just done a small bit of DIY, and after I clean up that is me done for the night.

Zzzzzzz