I was pretty sure that Monday was going to be my drunkest weeknight, considering I met up with Busty, started ordering wine by the bottle, and spent half the night drunk dialling and texting her sister who we knew full well was in the middle of day two of a "shagfest" with some dude she had picked up at a bar on Saturday night. I came into work on Tuesday a little bit dazed, but impressed with my stamina considering the amount of alcohol so frivolously consumed the previous night.
Yesterday I met up with a few friends to head to North Sydney for some Mexican food. We had plenty of sangria and margaritas, but their main effect was simply making me sleepy, and afterwards I couldn't get up the energy to head to the pub and went to take the train home with a couple of friends.
As we arrived at the train station, very proud of myself for choosing not only to go home over drinking, but also for selecting the budget option of transport, I promptly slipped on the stairs and slid/tumbled halfway down. Fortunately only my friends saw, and were kind enough to ask me if I was okay between holding in painful laughter. So much for being responsible. My ankle still hurts.