Take my hand, let me guide you through the mish mash of the life of an almost twenty-teen, and show you what really runs through the head of a female with the 24/7 fever.

Friday, 4 March 2011

Obsess with the mess...

My head hurts. My feet hurt. Why is there a scratch on my chin? Where am I? Why do I feel so ill?
Just a few of the thoughts I have incurred this messy, messy week.

I have found out that waking up, is the hardest thing in the world. Never in my life have I struggled so hard to hook myself out of bed, wash and go to Uni. Never in my life have I woken up wondering why my head was down the toilet. Classy huh? So attractive, and yet this is what my week has consisted of - partying, getting drunk and sleeping it all off the next day.

It's so horrific. So why is this process so much GOD DAMN FUN?

I'm obsessed with going out, getting completely rat arsed and forgetting my own name! Obsessed!! Dancing is so much less of a battle when under the influence! Somehow, someway, flailing your arms around like a frog in a blender doesn't feel so embarrassing when your drunk. Nor does not being able to walk in the sky high six inch monsters us ladies call shoes. Or falling down the stairs in them ten minutes after your fifth Sambuca shot of the evening.

And it seems I'm not the only one. Recently, I have noticed more and more people around me who are drunk. Day time, night time, everywhere. It's strange.
Like tonight at work, (I say tonight, more like half 8 in the evening) the guy who stumbled in wearing what looked like a nightgown he had stolen from his Nan and clutching a small Radley handbag. He was mashed. Completely wasted. Gone. He fell asleep in his pizza, downed a glass of water, fell asleep again, tried to eat, missed his mouth and poked himself in the eye with a slice. Wow wee. He was a very poorly man. Oh did I mention, he threw up. Everywhere. Lush times. (and before you ask, I did NOT clean it up. Grotesque.)

Somehow I couldn't help but feel appalled by this idiotic mans drunken antics. But, it made me think. He doesn't care, he won't remember in the morning... what do I get up to if I so happen to 'accidentally' reach the dizzy heights of drunkenness? What must I look like to normal, sober people?!

Oh the shame. Off to bury my head in the sand, sorry toilet, again.

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