There are parts of last night that I don't remember or only vaguely recall (I only remember that I apparently bought apples because of a conversation about spewing all over said apples.) I never thought this happened to me because I've drunk enough before to fell a mammoth, but apparently, I need to drink enough to fell two mammoths, and champagne and apple cider combined will do it.
This is torture for me. The idea that I have said and done things I don't remember is absolutely one of the worst things I can imagine. There are reasons I don't go out all the time getting blinded. I am horrified by the potential of my reason not being in control. Ugh. There was one point where I was there telling a (female) colleague how much I love her. Love, love, love. Then another conversation with a cop who was hopefully called Dave (something along the lines of 'you're a cop, why does the bar have to close, get them to reopen). There are journeys I can't visualise and all kinds of shit. And no. No! I do not enjoy this one little bit.
But I do remember being sick all over myself and LT's car, falling over - twice! and enough embarrassment fodder to last me, oh, five years of continual humiliation.
And to make matters worse, there were bottles of water on my computer table and counter in the kitchen sitting there when I woke up just mocking me.