Setting New Records For Myself

Idiot that I am, I went into this weekend declaring that I wanted it to be "a quiet one". Friday night wasn't too bad -- went to work drinks in the courtyard below my building, then went to a stand-up show, and then headed to a friends place where I drank my bottle of wine and went home before midnight. All well and good.

On Saturday, however, things took a turn for the worst:

8:34am -- Get a text message from a friend asking if anyone is "up for some brekkie beers?" I wisely decline, texting back only "You are digusting."

1.26pm -- As I'm settling down on my couch to watch music videos or something equally vapid for a few hours to kill time before the party I'm meant to go to that night, I get a phone call from the same friend. Would I like to meet them at a bar? I can't think of a real reason not to, and start to get dressed.

2.08pm -- Arrive at the bar and get started on the schooners of beer.

6.17pm -- Keep exclaiming how surprisingly sober I feel until I get up to go to the bathroom and have trouble navigating the stairs. Also, start running my mouth and telling stories I'd be better off keeping to myself.

7.41pm -- Arrive at a friends place with my two bottles of wine to continue drinking.

7.53pm -- Look on as we decide to give someone a drunken buzzcut. Point out that someone should have asked what part of someone else's body that particular pair of clippers is usually used on. Regret my observation when the truth is revealed.

9.06pm -- Not quite sure what was happening by this point, but I think I was looking so messy that everyone told me I had to go upstairs and have a lie down.

10.36pm -- Wake up very confused. Walk straight out of the apartment saying only "I'm fucked. I need to go home."

10:39pm -- Call my coworker who I was supposed to meet at a party and tell her that I'm too drunk to attend. She says I should come. I say "Okay." Twist my arm!

10:54pm -- Arrive at party completely smashed and start on some more beer. Meet lots of people whose faces I will never remember.

* * * SCENES MISSING -- CUT TO SUNDAY * * *

11:57am -- Wake up in a drunken stupor. Begin trying every trick I know to try and sober myself up (water, vitamins, a shower, sugary drinks, etc.) to no avail. Wander between my couch and the bed trying to decide where I want to be found dead.

2.41pm -- Get a text message from someone asking if I want to join them at Dolphin Bar. Decide I want to die in a bar, get dressed (with some difficulty) and head over for a few beers.

7:12pm -- Body ceasing to function. Go home and get into bed.


So yeah, based on conversations on Monday, it seems I was drinking for a solid fifteen hours. Considering that, I'd like to say that it's not like I was kicked out of a bar or woke up in a gutter somewhere, so I'm actually a little proud of myself. And not doing it again anytime soon, sweet jesus.

I also heard a great story that made me feel MUCH better about anything I could possibly have done. Apparently after I left work drinks on Friday, a guy from corporate tax decided it would be a good idea to dive into the courtyard fountain in front of the entire company. At like 7.30pm. Now, doesn't my weekend sound tame in comparison?