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Triggering (SI) - An Enchanting Evening
So Friday was the group presentation. Friday morning. We had practised several times, and yet I still shook like a leaf throughout the damn thing - I think I ruined it for the rest of my group (we all get the same mark for it). Anyway, Ian invited me for a beer in the social club afterwards... which I accepted (there was a vague niggle at the back of my mind about this, but I ignored it as per usual). Anyway, fast forward nine hours and I'm still there, challenging strangers to games of pool and believing myself to be far more witty and likeable than I was. So anyway, the walk home. I don't know if I was kicked out of the bar, or left of my own accord. All I know is that I woke up the next morning to be greeted by the following:
A pillow and duvet covered in blood;
A leather jacket and brand new shirt torn to shreds;
A gouge on my lip that needed a stitch, but of course it was too late;
Multiple bruises and gashes all over the right side of my body (scraping my head against the wall on the way back to my flat, see.)
Oh, and a note on my desk written by a girl called Hannah, telling me that she and her friend had found me "very drunk and covered in blood" at the top of the road, carried me home, washed the blood off me and then put me to bed. She even phoned me in the morning to ask me if I was ok. There should be an escort service like that for drunks, no?
The next day, I was supposed to be looking after my son. I turned up looking like I had been in a fight. What a great parent I am becoming, truly. I'm dreading going to college tomorrow, in case I bump into someone who saw me on Friday.
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