This was my weekend. I thought I was going to the Indianapolis 500 to enjoy festivities. I thought it would be a fun time, a new experience (I'd never been) and plus, My boyfriend got free tickets through his work.
We went up Saturday afternoon. We got through traffic and whatnot at about 6 and met up with his friends from work. We intended to stay the night, walk around, and watch about half of the race the next day. Unfortunately, about 6 hours and 4 16oz beers later, I was curled up in the back seat of my car with a plastic sack on the floorboard full of vomit. (Someone had so thoughtfully grilled me a delicious steak, and even through my drunkeness, I couldn't be rude and turn it down). Oh yes, steak and beer vomit. It was horrid.
I would also like to emphasize what an OUTSTANDING impression I made on Eric's colleagues, most of whom I had never before met. So they either thought I am a total lush, or I just can't handle my alcohol. Not to mention I'm sure it reflected marvelously on Eric. Luckily, he did a little explaining of the circumstances concerning my anxiety and my new medication, and they were understanding and forgiving. Thank god. I felt like a complete ass. And we had to leave early.
Thankfully, by the time we arrived safely at home, I had long-since successfully evacuated all the contents of my stomach (and then some), had a chance to sleep it off, hydrate with some water, and I actually felt well enough to shower and eat some Wheat Thins without yacking some more.
Moral of the story, I will NOT drink like that again. 64 oz of beer might not seem like a lot, but considering all the factors, including the fact I'm only 5'2", 115 lbs, I'm thinking it was about 50oz too many. Lessen learned. But I ruined what was potentially going to be a really great weekend. Go me.
Here's to hoping your weekend was better than mine...
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