I'm sick; in a corporeal sense this time. It's not pleasant.
A friend of mine thought it would be a good idea to ingest absurd quantities of alcohol; a plan which, in hindsight, was myopic on a par with the charge of the light brigade.
"I'm still drunk." I observed, as I woke up yesterday morning. Staring, bleary-eyed, at the clock, I became alarmed. It was time my friend left to catch his bus. On closer inspection, I managed to identify the respective hands of the clock, and conclude that in fact it was not as late as I first thought. Having verbalised this train of thought, I asked my friend, asleep on the floor, why there was a large bin next to my bed. My sartorial condition, or lack thereof, was also puzzling to me, and neither portended well for the recollections to come. I consulted my memory.
There was a club. There may have been furries. I know there was beer. I checked the viscinity, and seeing no coat, was a little concerned. I tried to recall last seeing it, but the location and wellbeing of it did not rank highly on the list of priorities, for a memory that was at present having trouble ascertaining as to how I came to be in my current geographical location.
The last thing I remember is being helpfully instructed, by my loyal friend, to finish my drink (the last of MANY) because the place was closing, as evidenced by the increasingly empty room. I'm informed by him that we weren't too polite to the bouncers, as we were escorted out with acquiline vigilence. I remember going through the doors, into the night, and everything after that has been, fortunately, wiped from my memory. Thankfully, or not, there is pictorial and video evidence of the subsequent events.
What serendipitous eventualities lead to our returning to the correct address, I have no idea, so if anyone assisted two drunk, homeless-looking people, to stumble back from the university, I thank ye, and pity ye, in equal measure. The fact that we made it back at all both puzzles and astounds me.
I'm currently suffering the aftermath of perseverating, and irresponsibly ignoring the hangover yesterday. I feel like i've been masticated ponderously by a gaggle of octagenarians, before being spat out, at a herd of stampeding buffalo...or somesuch.