So this morning I woke up, naked, in my friend’s bed. Confused at my nakedness, I turned over and saw who I had been sharing my bed with. Vomit, I was very confused. And also tired. So I went to sleep and ignored my bedmate. Leaving future me to deal with the issue.
What had started as movie night had spiralled into a series of events that led me to share a bed with, presumably my own vomit. Though I am still not 100% convinced. This is only the second time I have ever vomited as a result of alcohol, and hopefully the last.
The night started, watching clueless with coursemates and playing a drinking game. Far much alcohol was consumed as the rules practically required multiple drinks a minute. For example whenever a character was wearing thigh high socks and a miniskirt we had to have a drink. I think I have 90s PTSD now. Seeing thigh high socks may kill me. Far too much alcohol was consumed and I was convinced to go clubbing. Only my second time at university. We drank plenty more, and the night was really fun, good disco room music and fun to be with friends. I, unfortunately, kept getting shots in the club, which definitely weren’t needed eventually we got an uber and I was allowed to stay in Fernanda’s bed while she went to her boyfriends. What a mistake she made.
It was a nice comfy bed and I had a good sleep until I awoke to the carnage. Which as previously mentioned I ignored in favour of sleep (after donning a spare pair of boxers which luckily had been left in my backpack). When I woke up the second time, it was unfortunately not a dream, and there was still vomit on the bed. I panicked and began stripping the sheets and tidying the room (feeling quite drunk still). While tidying I found my boxers, covered in vomit. At some point, they were removed from me, and I have theorized with friends the reason they could be vomit covered while I was not. We came to the conclusion that perhaps in my drunken state I had used my boxers in an attempt to clean up my vomit, and it seems as likely a possibility as any. I have never before forgotten anything because of alcohol so am still half convinced someone came in, stole my boxers and then vomited everywhere and left.
My phone also had no signal and if I left the building I would be unable to get in. I eventually got a text through to my flatmate Dustin to come and walk me back and gathering my things I made a hasty exit. Holding in my arms vomited covered sheets which I intended to wash as soon as I got home.
It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and the nearby lake looked incredibly pretty. I stopped to watch some ducks, amused by their quacking, and then wondered the amount of time you were allowed to watch ducks without being a weirdo, and promptly moved on. Eventually, with the help of Dustin I made it home. To find I had no keys or wallet. So I could not get into my room, couldn’t get changed, or shower.
I accosted my flatmate and she gave me apple juice which I tentatively sipped; feeling quite unwell now. My keys, I was told, were in my coat. Back where I had just walked from. A 25-minute walk there and back. Eventually, I worked up the courage to go, and convinced another flatmate to aid me in my quest this time Callum.
Long story short I finally got to bed and slept for several hours and washed the sheets. I’m very sorry Fernanda, thank you for the comfy bed.
As a result, I can never watch 90’s teen movies, and I won’t be consuming alcohol anytime soon, I hope.