I never knew laughter cures hangovers, thank god I've June. Babe, I love you long time! Had way too much last night, Tuesday night I mean. Well, I didn't intend to get drunk (but who does?). Had dinner and went for my groceries shopping (again), and dropped by for a drink or two, intentionally. But it ended up with eight bottles, or more I guess, pfffttt!
I didn't remember how I drove home (I swear that will be my last time driving home drunk like a blardy idiot). All I knew was that, I shall get my meat and frozen food in to the freezer, and I did, right before my bottle of Absolut fell out of the freezer and shattered to a million pieces. Well, I couldn't be bothered as I was in a rush to hug my toilet boil and chucked my heart out. As I was doing that, I saw blood on my feet - I cut myself. How stupid can someone be? Fine. I cleaned my wounds, applied tea tree oil, which I spilled all over my bathroom, and somehow managed to remove my make-up (only realized that when I got up this morning), and crawled up to my bed naked. Imagine you've to clean up your kitchen with a hangover in the morning, no joke!
Look at it this way - I managed to get home without crashing my car; I managed to undress; I managed to remove my make-up on an auto-pilot mode; I puked only in to the toilet bowl as I always manage to do. Not too bad afterall. But there's something that upsets me till now...
I F*CKING LOST MY CAR KEYS!
It's definitely in my building as I drove, I parked, and I locked. I definitely had dropped it on my way up to my apartment, from the carpark. Checked with my building manager just before and there's no keys in sight, so far. Oh god, please help me in this one, I really do need my keys. I drove out with my spare keys tonight but... I'm serious about this, please give me my keys. It's not funny. Violet laughed at this but let me tell you, it's not at all funny.
On another note, had an evening out with the girls, and boys. This is one of the many things I miss in Melbourne, the afterwork drinks, the bitching and drinking. And tonight, Patrick had given me a shock in some way. For someone who believes in love, for someone who believes in marriage, for being with someone he isn't in love with. Just tell me, what is he doing?
I personally believe in love. Well, I've always think of myself as a romantic realist. I believe in love and I'm looking for love, the out-of-the-way, nonsensical, sweep-me-off-my-feet kind of love. And I was a little worry, when, just when would I be one of the many Patricks around, where I don't really care anymore, I don't really give a damn, although I believe, but I'm not practising. The thought of it has already sent shivers down my spine. I do not want that, but I guess I can't really do anything about that, if it really happens.