This morning I woke up in my bed, and looked around in utter confusion. How did I get here? I had no memory — none whatsoever — of retiring to bed last night. All that I remember about last night was: I'd gone up to the bar (without having had dinner — biiig mistake!); I'd had quite a few capirinhas with some friends up there; at some point, I'd changed into my swimmers and jumped into the jacuzzi; and after, I'd gotten out and kept talking to people. Then, my memory stops — completely blacks out. However, after talking to some of my roommates this morning, I think I've got a pretty good explanation of why that is.
Apparently, I fell out of my bed last night. Out of my top bunk bed. Rolled straight off it — or so I'm told — and landed with a thud on the tiled floor below. Several people saw it, and several more also distinctly heard it. Since alcohol — regardless of quantity — has never made me completely lose my memory (there's a big difference between blurred and lost, you know), I can only assume that the fall off the bed mildly concussed me, and that it erased several hours of memory from my brain forever. After falling, I reportedly got right back up, went to the toilet for a minute, returned, and climbed back into bed.
I also reportedly attempted to hug a few random girls, and to jump into their beds. These reports are, of course, clearly wrong, as I'm a Very Good Boy™ who would never dream of doing things like that. Cough, cou-bullshit-gh, cough.
Anyway, after a big breakfast and several cups of coffee this morning, I did start to sober up, and to become increasingly aware of numerous painful bruises on various parts of my body. And correct me if I'm wrong, but logic would seem to dictate that these pains and bruises, and the rumours about my exploits last night, do indeed go hand-in-hand.
As you can imagine — on account of my feeling so utterly s$#% that I began to envy how good those lumps of s%#$ must feel, floating lazily through them sewer pipes — I therefore felt it prudent to do precisely f$%# all today (the weather was still crap as well), apart from relax in front of a computer screen, and occasionally pray that I hadn't done any permanent brain damage to myself. As far as I'm concerned, the fact that I'm able to write this is a good sign. Things are looking promising.