“Jesus…what time is it?!” I yell from the back room, not expecting an answer.  “Noon!” Some unknown voice yells from what could be the kitchen.  “It’s snowing outside”, the voice adds. I try to get up, it’s harder today than usual, it reminds me of the olden days when I used to drink.  “Euuugyuuck! This is a hangover” I say low, fast, and to myself.  I try to remember the particulars, but my body isn’t used to this so it takes most of its energy for survival instead of fact finding.  It takes some doing but I finally make It out to the kitchen where Troy greets me with “You look terrible.”  “Mmm, thank you?  Have you been home yet?”  I ask.  “Been home, back, and had breakfast.”  I make coffee, sit at my table turn the television on, say “showoff”, and then nothing else.  He leaves after a couple ghost stories and I am left trying to figure out if this is just a regular hangover that my body isn’t used to, or if its something stronger like I think it is. 

As I have had a lot of practice with trying to retrace events from a night out.  The night flows back into my head.  Unsurprised by my actions, I accept that this hangover is special and again my fault.  You see, I had been sick and being that it was my birthday and I didn’t want to be sick on my birthday so I took some medicine.  Now, I don’t know if you guys have fallen into the trap of saving the last pills of a bigger order and putting them into one container, so I wouldn’t lose them.  That with the fact that all the other medicine had been taken already, I dove into that container and took what looked like an Actifed, perfect.  Smash cut to 8pm, finishing dinner and I was starting to think that maybe I am the asshole that Monica keeps tell me I am when she’s pissed off.  But at 9pm they started trickling in car by car.  As people come in and wish me a happy birthday, I find it harder and harder to talk.  It sounded like I didn’t waste my birthday and drank all day.  I knew something was wrong, and I knew what I did.  I stumble back to my bathroom to assess my blunder.  I pour out the rest of the container and quickly see that what I thought was Actifed was not Actifed, but my mind was foggy and I had trouble trying to place the rest.  That is when the old Chris showed up.  He snatched up a slightly bigger white pill and stumbled his way back into the now thriving birthday party.  We watch episodes of “Bad Girls Club, drinking throughout, which drains everybody.  I still don’t know what the purpose of that show is.  I slur my goodbyes and then wake up back at the top of the page.

You can see that I got bored with writing this.  The first pill that was mistaken for Actifed was morphine, and the second pill was a muscle relaxer, both did what they were supposed to. Happy Birthday to me, I guess.