No Strings Attached, Right?

1. No one, not even a midget.

Waking up. It's not the wisest choice to make after a night out partying. The hang over is really the only bad thing about it. Granted you think it's a good idea at the time but once it hits you, BAM! You say you never want to do that again. What do you do? You do it again. You always do. What did I do? Well I always make that mistake. Everytime. Well, when I have a day off. It's a weekly mistake that I don't learn from...ever.

I don't remember anything other than emptying my second or third drink. That was after our rainbow shots... shit happened! A lot of shit.

I open my eyes and the light blinds me. I forgot to cover my windows. I didn't draw the curtians. My dumbass self over here. I close my eyes and roll over to the other side of the bed to draw the right curtain until it covers half of the window. I can't see anything. I feel around for the string. I'm knocking things over, off of the nightstand. I'm such a mess. I finally find the string; I pull it. I roll over to the other side, and draw the left curtain half way so there is some light. I still need to see where I'm going.

I open my eyes and see that I knocked over a glass of water. It was a full glass of water too. I sit up and get out if my bed to clean it. As I stand I feel the pounding headache crash into me. It's like a herd of elephants stampeding in my head! I grab my bottle of Ibeprofen and open it, nothing. It's empty. Great. I look around as I close the bottle and throw it behind me. I need Something to clean the water. My old high school hoodie. Useable, I guess.

I got this hoodie my freshman year, the year me and Dean became best friends, the year we met. Last night me and Dean went to a club for what seemed like ten minutes, but most likely a few hours. I'm a little light weight. I grab the hoodie and place it over the spilt water. As the hoodie soaks up the water I grab my phone from off of the nightstand. 2:01 PM. When did I go to bed last night?! Probably like 5 AM. I have two notifications; both from Dean. I open my messages and see a very embarrassing image, and a text saying, "Meet me at the diner @3." I reply with the letter K, knowing that'll piss him off a little.

The image, it's me and Dean. I'm ontop of a table, trying to dance and Dean is standing  up next to the table with a huge grin on his face. If you look close enough... you can see my green undies. I'm glad I shaved before going out last night, that would have been a disaster. My tight black dress was ridden up and you probably could see my undies from a far is I sat at the bar. I feel like a whore but I didn't do anything last night, wait... did I? I look in my bed and fumble with the blankets, moving them, throwing them. No one, not even a midget.

I save the photo and get out of my bed. I'm going to have to make it later. YAY! I rush to my walk-in closet and see the mess that was left yesturday from the dress searching. Wonderful. I don't plan on dressing up today so its fine for now. I grab a pair of black leggings and my Tweny One Pilots hoodie. I slept in my bra, and appearently my black dress too. I honestly thought this was a shirt because of how far up it rose. I need to throw it away, it's too small. I strip myself of my dress and throw on what I have grabbed. Finally, I don't feel so confined! Why did I even choose to wear that torture device in the first place? I have plenty of other night club dresses. Oh, well.

Walking out of my closet, I make my way to my bathroom. That is also a humongous mess. There's make up and hair products EVERYWHERE! I can't see the counter... at all. This is terrible. I haven't even looked in the mirror yet, I'm too scared. I might see an ugly, nasty, gross, scary monster, and that monster is me. I can feel the pounds of make up smeared all over my face. Great. This is going to be fun to wash off.

Finally after realizing I don't have much time, I look up. "WHAT THE FUCK!" I shout. I have mascara, eye liner, and eye shadow literally everywhere. And my red, matte lipstick is some how on my fucking forehead! This is going to me so much fun! I'm going to really enjoy this.  As I walk closer to what looks like my make up removal wipes, I smell a very familiar and distinct smell. Vomit. Wonderful. I really hope I made it to the toilet. I look over and thankfully I did. "Must have been a good night." I whisper to myself. I flush it and begin on my face clensing.