Last night I got drunk and threw up in my kitchen sink.
There’s more to the story, but who cares? Three drinks at my coworker’s party downtown and somehow the line was crossed. Somehow I was crying; I don’t remember why, or what set me off. My friend put me in a cab. I made it back to my apartment, and remember pounding on the bathroom door. My roommate said she’d be out in a minute. So I threw up in the kitchen sink. Today she told me I made it back to the bathroom, because she woke up at 3am and I was still in there, passed out on the floor.
I’m 24 and I’m never drinking out of a $8 plastic jug of Popov again.