I sat up and immediately regretted it. A whirlwind of alcohol spun through my head and made my already poor vision even blurrier. It was a bowling ball rolling heavily in my skull, and I felt the wine and vodka splashing against the walls of my stomach. I opened my sticky mouth and clutched my aching ribs. My naked skin was so soft, and hot to the touch. I winced as my mind tried to put together the reality of the blurry clutter before me. My clean and dirty clothes lied together on the floor beside me. Books and papers neighbored them, amongst other miscellaneous objects that needed to be put away. None of the mess fazed me in the least. All I could think about was the burning thirst in my throat.
I stumbled into the bathroom and leaned over the sink. I rested there for a minute, letting the ball that was swaying back and forth in my head come to a slow stop. When I was sure I wouldn’t pass out or throw up, I lifted the knob on the faucet and desperately threw cold water on my face. The cool wetness splashed against my lips and then I could not help but shovel the water in my mouth, crudely and unrefined. Handful after handful of cool running tap water releasing the dry stickiness on my tongue and opening up my throat, it was a miracle in my mouth. And although I knew even at the time that drinking from the sink might just make me more sick, I couldn’t resist my instincts to relieve my desiccated mouth and scorching throat in that unbecoming moment.
I brushed my teeth for probably 10 minutes, and then indulged myself in the water one more time. I wiped my hands and face inelegantly across the hanging hand towel and staggered back to my bed, holding myself up by the walls around me, barely having the strength to pull the covers back over my body when I finally sprawled across the disaster that was my mattress.
