silversolitaire

As I already hinted at before, I had a very bad weekend. Which was mostly my own fault. Which again makes it only worse. Let me relate.

On Saturday my parents were having their annual May get-together. I was very excited about this since it's always a lovely event where we get to drink May Punch copiously and have lots of fun. I like all of my parents' friends. They're great buddies, really. We spent all Saturday preparing, fixed the house up nicely, cleaned up the garden, terrace and living room to be prepared for all the guests. It was a lovely occasion and it was all in all a wonderful evening. I had lots of nice chats, I made some new friends, I had fun. Around midnight everyone started singing and it was extremely amusing.

Now where's the horrible part, you may ask. Here it is. Being the jackass that I am, I failed to watch the amount of drinks I had. If you ask me now I will say I had no more than 4 or 5 glasses, but given the fact how drunk I became I probably had twice as much, if not more. At some point in the evening I decided to go to bed. I can't possible guess the exact time since I simply was way too drunk. My memory leaves me as I rise from the table and leave the merry round without any evening greeting (which is one of the things that bugs me the most. That was so rude). After that I have no recollection of what happened.

As I reconstruct it it appears that I have made it upstairs, half-way running into Rosi who asked me if I needed help to get into bed (which again makes it painfully obvious to me in what shape I must have been). My brother, having sneaked upstairs somewhere prior to that since he had no desire to join a table of drunks, heard me decline her offer and thus ignored anything after that he heard. What exactly I did I don't know, but the various bruises and injuries that I have now, plus the deplorable shape of the work out bike leave me to believe that I must have knocked it over (and it's heavy, I assure you). I probably ran into a wardrobe, too. Around 1:30 AM my father apparently came upstairs and found me sprawled out naked on my bed. He asked if I was okay which I answered positively.

If you think that's embarrassing, just wait. An hour later when my parents wanted to go to bed, too, they heard sounds from upstairs. Soon they realized it was gagging and retching. They went upstairs into the bathroom, expecting me there. But I wasn't. Then they went into my room... I was still naked, hanging upside down from the side of my bed in a puddle of my own puke... They lifted me up and I only puked more. I puked all over my clothes! They washed me and held a bucket for me. Apparently I got a shaking fit and everything. The whole she-bang. They sat by my bed for another hour until they could be sure I was soundly asleep now. They were really frightened for me. Fortunately, I should say, I have no memory of that. But it makes it all the more embarrassing, really. I have some memory flashes though of my mom holding the bucket for me and my dad running around panicky... *dies*

I woke up for the first time around 7, dizzy and confused. I noticed my pillows were gone and there was a bucket next to my bed. Urgh. I went to the bathroom and the movement immediately made me sick again and I puked again, this time into the toilet, thank God. I woke again around 10 and puked once more. I still didn't feel able to really get up. Around 12 I got up again and took a long shower. Mom talked to me and filled me in a bit about last night, only adding to my embarrassing. To cut a long story short, I spent the rest of the day puking my guts out every time I tried to get ANYthing into my stomach, and if it was just juice or water. I felt miserable and at the brink of crying every time I got those spastic puke-attacks. It was just a twitching stomach, really. Nothing game out later, but it still felt horrible. Bleargh.

So that was my weekend. It started out nicely and ended horribly and it was all my fault. This annoyed me the most, that I brought myself into such a stupid situation. I've embarrassed myself in front of my family and friends, I've hurt myself enough to still ache all over, my lips and throat still are sore, my room smells icky and I'm still tired and exhausted. Now I know why gluttony is considered a deadly sin (dude! I'm channeling TV again! I write this and promptly there's an ad on TV for that Magnum icecream featuring the 7 sins! O.o;).

Anyway, I must have collected so much bad karma over this weekend, it probably annulled everything good I did over the past weeks. And it promptly unloaded itself upon me today when I had to take my car to the garage because it was making odd sounds and I returned one hour later, exhausted from having to walk a mile or so, being hot and bothered, and 600€ poorer because my tail pipes had to be exchanged.

So, yup. Believe the bad karma bit, people. Seriously. Just a warning.

Feel free to laugh now.