At times like this I’m kind of jealous of those who don’t indulge in drink.  Well, those who don’t overindulge.

I have no clue how I got home last night.  I think I took the bus because I didn’t have enough to take a cab, but I don’t remember anything past leaving the Ex’s place.

Yesterday I stripped my bed to wash the sheets so I woke up, in only pj pants, very cold, sans covers of any sort, on the mattress pad.  I put on a t-shirt, grabbed the comforter, and went back to sleep.

The nice thing is I came home with all my possessions including my iPod and my passport (I lost my driver’s license in a previous drunken haze).  My pants were downstairs.  My bra and shirt were next to the bed.  My contacts were still in, and I still can’t see right out of my left eye now that the contacts are out.

I don’t know if I took Isis out last night.  On the opposite side of the bed was a pile of rejected pj pants.  Even completely wasted I’m pretty much the same in my preferences, as the rejected pj pants were not weather appropriate.

Actually, my contact was still in.  The left contact is officially MIA.  They’re the disposable kind so that one’s been disposed of.

I have a broken toenail and I’m covered in bruises.  The bruises were caused by a very nice, very hot, skinny guy with a big dick.  Yay.

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