Margarita + Beach Volleyball = Disaster

It all started out because of poor planning. My office mates and I had rescheduled our after work margarita night multiple times and had finally decided on last evening. I was also simultaneously scheduling an evening league with my beach volleyball partner. It all happened to coincide last night and I was faced with a decision. To margarita or to not margarita? I didn't want to force my office mates to reschedule yet again and I definitely did not want to miss volleyball. I love playing volleyball. So I decided to try both.

I should tell you that a margarita is not a normal drink for me, so I wasn't sure how to handle it. So I guessed. I bolused 1.5 units, probably a little on the low side, but a double-header on the beach was immediately to follow so I thought I would need the extra sugar. After 45 minutes and chips with guacamole the cacophony began. Beep. 185 and upwards. Crap. I hopped on my bike before I could be convinced of another margarita and rode to the beach. Beep. Vibrate. 256. The first game didn't go so well. Lucky for me, my partner had also consumed a glass of wine before game time, so we were both a little sluggish and slow on our feet. By the end of the match I had come down to 114 and felt much better. I drank some Gatorade and played another match. Beep. 139. I cycled 6 miles to my house. Vibrations. 67. I ate an ice cream sandwich and snuggled up in bed to read a book. By midnight, I was hearing that high-pitched shrilled, the last resort one, when you've missed all of the vibrations because you are SLEEPING. Beeeeeeeep(high-pitched and shrill-like) 59. ugh. I desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but decided against it and went to the kitchen for M&Ms. At 2am, beep. 56. To the kitchen I stumble! At 4am, vibrate. METER BG NOW. Are you kidding? 104. Sigh of relief. When 5am hit and I was 59 again I started to complain while half asleep. Why didn't I just bring the giant bag of M&M's with me to bed? After the third time of going to the kitchen last night, I was delirious and mumbling about having poor dental hygiene from all of the sugar consumed. My husband seemed concerned and all I could utter from my subconscious was, Typical Type 1 doesn't brush her teeth in the middle of the night.