...where to begin...well, I woke up Sunday (morning? afternoon? no idea?) with what I knew to be a horrendous hangover. I woke up in a pool of my own vomit with unknown substances in my hair on my shirt, and on my sheets. I felt like death, basically, and as soon as I was able to move I took a shower in an attempt to get clean. But I didn't do a very good job of it because my stomach began getting queasy again. So afterwards, I removed all of my sheets and hobbled back into my bed, where I laid pathetically for the rest of the night.
I don't know how I managed to get that wasted, but I'm thinking the chugging of the vodka straight out of the bottle had something to do with it? The beginning of the night was great fun, but I'm just assuming it didn't end well. Don't really want to know, to be honest. And my wrists and pinkie finger are killing me, which makes me wonder what the fuck I could've done to them. Did I crawl around or something?! Ugh...it's going to be embarrassing running into people I know.
Note to self: to avoid further embarrassment, do not start chugging random liquors straight out of their containers. It's generally not a good idea.
But since when does self ever actually take its own advice?