The other night we went bowling with a group of friends. It was all fun and games until that one, last beer. Apparently 'one' was the magic number- the straw that broke that camel's back, if you will. I felt fine. Kept on bowling, visiting, upright, having fun. We go out to get in the car and my balance is off and next thing I know we're in the car with the world zooming by in strips of light and tilted detail.
Home we went with my head in a spin.
Now I had every intention of some good head for the hubby, some extended *ahem* attention for myself and some crazy, "fuck me so hard I feel it in my throat" sexy time.
Nope.
Instead I was, quite literally, stripped (or 'peeled' may be a better verb here- you choose) from my clothing by the loving hand of my ever-attentive Man and promptly tucked into bed where I swiftly drifted off into a mild coma; only to awaken with a most horrific migraine and the inability to open my eyes. All the while I remained focused on the likelihood of my coming down with a raging case of the 'hangover shits'; which did, in fact, come to fruition.
Blech.
So there I sat wishing I were back in my coma, perhaps with a diaper on to avoid having to move to and from the lavatory, silently sleeping off this nightmare of beer fueled, post "it's all fun and games", 21 year old state of existence.
Oh wait, I never felt like this at 21. Or 31 for that matter.
FML
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