This morning I woke at 11 o'clock. When I woke up I was in that happy lull between being drunk and being hungover. As is the way with these things, the hangover would catch up with me later in the day. But when I woke up I just felt a little fuzzy around the edges. I'd even managed to brush my teeth last night so it didn't taste like someone had shat in my mouth. I'm not really sure how much I'd had to drink, but I imagine it was really rather a lot.
The first thing that I noticed when I got out of bed was that I'd managed to break one of my nice glasses in my drunken stupor. Bugger, I like those glasses. Now I'm down to three. I suppose it is quite remarkable that I managed to get through 9 months without breaking any of them, as they are very thin and fragile and I'm not the most delicate person.
The second thing I noticed was that my back hurt. Looking at it in the mirror — which in my tiny bathroom is something of a contortionist's feat — I noticed that I had what looked like claw scratch marks across my back. I had absolutely no idea how I got them. Being as I was running so late I didn't devote a lot of time and effort to working out what happened.
This evening when I got home from work I noticed a couple of other things. The first was that I'd thrown up sometime in the night. Amazingly I managed to avoid my bed and books and just hit a sheet that was in a heap on one side of the bed. I was very impressed with myself. I was particularly impressed with the way I hadn't noticed this morning or this afternoon when I showed the nice man from American Electric Power to my circuit breaker box. Hopefully he didn't notice either. (With any luck they'll now switch my account so that it's attached to the correct meter. It's hard to believe that for at least the last 9 years they have been mis-billing my neighbour and all the previous tenants of my apartment.)
The last thing I noticed was that the door to my walk-in closet had some broken wood near its base. This was about a metre away from where I found the broken glass. Closer examination revealed that the bottom of the door was pretty badly broken. In fact the bottom one of the two solid metal hinges, which are probably about 3-4mm thick, was snapped into three pieces. Something certainly exerted a lot of force on that hinge.
My best guess is that when I came home from the bar last night I went through my usual ritual of brushing my teeth and getting a glass of water. Then as I walked to my bed from the kitchen I slipped and fell. At this point I dropped the glass, which was promptly smashed in to many little pieces by my hardwood floor. Meanwhile I fell, back first, in to the door to my closet, probably hitting the door handle and thus scratching my back. The poor door, which had been hanging there minding it's own business, suddenly had a rather large Ryan crash in to it causing minor devastation and the aforementioned hinge snapping. Luckily I then managed to pick myself up, avoid the broken glass and get in to bed.
Suffice to say that tonight I abstained from alcohol.
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