Perception: Fuzziness in vision, hearing, etc. Squinting to hear (I know, I know) the lyrics to “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” at the very end of Monty Python’s “Life of Brian”. Bland taste of the seemingly very weak screwdiver that I’m sipping.
Very next perception: Cold, wet. Dark. Naked. Brain says, “Go back to sleep. Don’t try to move or you’ll kill us both. Oh, and my god you’re an idiot.” My brain then plays a recording of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb”. I hate it when my brain gets sarcastic and uppity like that.
Cold, wet. Dark. Naked.
It takes me several minutes to decide which of these to solve first. Somewhere in this decision process the idea arises that being naked it not actually a problem, per se. I eventually decide to cure the darkness first.
I open my eyes. Problem solved. New problem arises: light is bad. Light is, in fact, very evil. I shut my eyes again, as my brain chuckles at my foolishness.
Dark is alright. I choose to solve cold next. My foot automatically reaches out and turns on the hot water. Turns on the … aaaah! I open my eyes without thinking and realize that I’m in the bathtub.
This comes as quite a shock to me, although it does explain why I was cold. My brain helpfully (if condescendingly) explains to me the most probable sequence of events: I drank too much. I began to puke. My roommates helped me to the bathtub, where I could puke with abandon and also where I eventually passed out.
Brain helpfully suggests a few facts that require further explanation: I am naked. I am wet. At some point, someone must have stripped me and turned on the water in the bathtub. I decided I’d ask one of my roommates what had happened, and discretely ask them if they were responsible for my damp nudity. I then pass out.
Hours later, I stumble out of the bathtub and across the enormous two-foot barren wasteland that exists between the bathtub and the toilet. Safely at another puke-station, I puke. Several minutes later, and assuming there is nothing left in my stomache which can be forcibly ejected, I stumble to the bathroom sink, a journey of upwards of four feet. Exhausted by traversing such a distance, I promptly puke.
At this point I hear laughter. One of my roommates is standing behind me, with an enormous smile on his face. “My god you were fun last night,” he says.
Oh dear. That explains the nakedness, but will require a major overhaul in how I view our inter-roommate relationsh -
“You were dancing on the table for god’s sake! Then you just started puking. It was hilarious! I had to help you to the bathroom and then you flopped down in the bathtub, and removed all your clothes for some reason.”
Ah. I see.
“I left you there, and went to bed. A few hours later I thought I should check on you. For some reason, you’d started the water running. It was almost to the edge of the tub. Dude, if I hadn’t checked on you then you would have drowned yourself!”
Interesting.
“Hey, you alright? Dude, you don’t look so - Holy Jesus that’s digusting! What did you eat?”
I rinse my mouth out with some water, but the bitter taste remains. “Almost drowned you say?”
“Yup. The water would have covered your head in just a few more minutes.”
Almost drowned.
I struggle to my feet. “Help me to the fridge,” I tell him. “I need a drink.”
[This story embellished for your benefit.]