A glass of wine

I got dizzingly drunk after work last night. It wasn't my intention at all. The plan had been to have a nice, civilised cup of tea and a chocolate eclair in Patisserie Valerie and then go to an event at the Wellcome Collection.

However the tea turned into a glass of rose and the eclair turned into another glass of rose.
"Another?" asked JJ as she drained her white wine and got up resolutely, purse in hand. And then after three glasses of wine the symetery of drinking a fourth pleased us both...

I remember getting home. I remember a brief conversation with Significant Other's friend who was staying with us last night. I remember Significant Other insisting I drank a lot of water. And I remember waking up around midnight to find my cat sitting on my chest, fixing me with a baleful glare.

How did I get so drunk so quickly? I know that half-way down my second glass of wine I was feeling more than a little tipsy so why did I go on to have two more? Am I turning into a middle-aged binge drinker? If you suddenly find that I am blogging about smearing on bright red lipstick and calling waiters "darling", please will you phone Significant Other and tell him to take me home? Thank you.