It did. This morning was incredibly typical of the chaotic uselessness that is my life. You see, last night my gay friend and some of my other friends and i all chipped in for four six packs of various fruity mikes drinks, because they are tasty and delicious. Having said that, it is not a good idea for me to drink an entire six pack by myself in about forty minutes, because then i pass out on my bed for ten hours and wake up in the following state:
Hungover, with no idea where my phone has gone.
Usually, i have a vague idea of the room my phone has wandered off to after a night of drinking. Usually, its in my friend grace's room, underneath a pile of her laundry. One time it was lodged behind a bed that was not mine. And one time it was in my friend hannah's shoe.
But not today. Today, i meandered about campus, checking with security, the coffee shop, in addition to all the usual places. I decided sadly that i must have mistook it for a bottle last night and thrown it out. As I shuffled back along to my dorm, passing underneath a massive oak or maple tree, i can't really tell right now, i felt a large ping! on my head, and i realized that a bird had shat berry remnants onto my head.
Perfect, think i to myself as i run upstairs, shielding my head with my coat. As I wash the bird shit out of my hair, I begin to tear up. Partly because i am mid-menses and lack emotional stability, partly because i lost my phone and a bird has just shat on my head, partly because i have homework to do and i am not doing so well, and partly because i am growing tired of waking up hungover. It is not pleasant. I stayed in fetal position for about an hour this morning, positive that if i made any attempt to get up i would instantly collapse in a gelatinous state and die a gruesome death.
Yet i continue to drink myself into a stupor at least twice a week. Why do i do this? Boredom. a need to feel i am participating in the social environment. To build a little tolerance so that I DON'T GET TRASHED AFTER ONLY SIX LEMONADES. (That is just so lame, its not even funny.) Usually i stay out of shenanigans. Usually i just run around laughing and hugging people for a few hours before going to bed. Only a couple times has drinking ever really blown up in my face. We shan't go into those details.
I should probably stop before i kill myself or do something spectacularly stupid. Mayhap i'll get around to reevaluating my life, but i have greek homework to do first.
Peace out.
bagels
btw, i found my phone. it was underneath a sock underneath my dresser. How it got there i have no idea.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
To provide the old person's perspective, six malt beverages is actually quite a lot. If I drank that many I'd hurl.
ReplyDeletesee this is the issue. in my circle of friends this is laughable, but i feel a lot better knowing that its not as lame as they say it is. te amo.
ReplyDelete