Professional on the Razzle

So.....remember me waffling on about being a young professional, excited blah blah?

Well, is it professional to drink a bottle of red wine on the way to London on the train, get propositioned by a man who doesn't know the difference between "That dark stuff you are drinking and the clear stuff that guy has over there", then sits with you and tells you he is a wagon driver who has never been on a train and is off to Hemel Hemstead to meet his internet woman, drink more wine at the hotel, get briefly stuck in the lift then quaff copious Aspell's Suffolk Cider at the pub opposite, meet some randomers and end up dancing the night away till x o'clock, wake up half dead, go to meeting a red eyed zombie, endure the day, head back to Manc on the train, forget to press 'lock' on the toilet door and watch it slide open in slow motion to reveal people waiting goggle-eyed outside, get chatted up by an incredibly drunk Boltonian who keep falling into other unfortunate and extremely polite Southerners as the train tilts,  meet friends in Manc and then back to mine till y o'clock, collapse in bed, get up and go to the praccy room to rock the night away, do a clumsy double kick on the kit and wail into a mic, go to the pub, challenge old men to pool, chinese buffet and stagger home for work on Monday morning?

If so then seriously guys, I'm loving this professional lark!