Oh man.
I made a complete ass out of myself last night at Hartamas square. I got really fucked up and puked about three times infront of everyone. Luckily, since David arrived two days ago by the way, he took the incentive and got me a taxi and he told the driver where to go. I don't remember much, but opening the door at my apartment and puking all the contents of my stomach all over the road. The Taxi driver was nice and handed me some tissues and even when I was short of cash, he let me go. I wandered up to the elevators, hoping no one would notice me and talk to me, but my luck did not hold out. A Indian lady I met in our English for Music class came up to me and started asking me "complicated" questions, well complicated for someone absolutley smashed. I'd never been as fucked as I was that night, it was terrible.
I just nodded to her questions while going up the elevator, even when some of them I THINK required more than one syllable answers. I got to my door and fumbled with the lock and keys but I was able to get through my front door and to my room. I just collasped on my bed and recieved phone calls asking if I had arrived safely. I passed out and awoke today feeling as if i'd been brutually beaten with a golf club. I'm better now, nothing that 100 plus can't fix!
Class was a bitch. I got 12/20 for our mid semester exam, I was not concentration I felt too shitty. Never again will I get that fucked and go somewhere public.
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