Further proof that I am no longer 19 years old

Got together with an old friend of mine for dinner and drinks last night. I was having a particularly bad week (as I've whined about several times already), so the alcohol flowed freely. Dinner was excellent. Well, with the exception of the shitty funk band that kept doing their "sound check". Um, doesn't a sound check comprise of "check one. check one" and some long hair playing a few chords from Stairway to Heaven? Thought so.

Band stops, dinner continues, all's good.

We decide after dinner that we need more drinks.
Head off to this really cool bar.
The bartender, who's kinda yummy, makes wicked bevvies. Even slips us a double.
I'm feeling happy. My friend and I start to reminisce about our past relationship (yes, exes make the best friends). Funny the things one remembers about the past. Lotsa laughs abounded.

We decide to hit the abode for further drinks.
At this point it's now officially LATE. Guess who has to row less than 7 hours later? That's right. Me. I'm one fuckin' bad ass. I shrug it off and head for that last drink.
We giggle and sit around for another hour or so. I admit, that yes, I have to head home to sleep.

Catch a cab. Somewhere along the drive home, I realise that I am drunk. It's all right, I'm almost home. Almost. My brain decides that there isn't enough room in my gut for all this alcohol, it's gotta go somewhere.
I manage to get out of the cab with no accidents. It's on the walk home that I calmly lean over and ralph in the shrubberies. Ah, I put the ass in class, let me tell you.
Get home. Fall asleep. But not before looking at the clock. Ha! Less than 4 hours before I gotta get up and row.

Wake up thinking I'm going to die. It's 4.45 am. I feebly reach for the phone and call my rowing partner. Thank gawd she's understanding. I manage to postpone the row to tomorrow morning. Fall back asleep until 7.30am.
Vow never to do this again.

Bet you five bucks I pull this shit again in the next week.

Awwww yeah.