Acting my shoe size

I woke in the early hours, under a doona on the couch, with a sore head, parched throat and no idea how I'd got there.

Retracing my steps, I found a sick bag (used) in the trash. My backpack, leather jacket and sneakers were strewn across the lounge room floor. Entering the bathroom, I discovered a trifecta of black spew stains in the basin, on the loo and (for some unknown reason) in the bathtub.

My first mistake had been going with colleagues to the pub on an empty stomach. My second was switching from beer to a spirit I'd been recommended (Jagermeister), then doing several shots of the delicious-at-the-time stuff with no idea of the cumulative effect they'd have.

Only limited brain recordings exist from this point.

The bouncer politely asking me to leave...chucking everything up in the loo at work...my good (and now trusted) friend SC convincing a cabbie to take me home on the understanding I keep a sick bag handy (just as well)...

Obviously, my instincts were enough to get me safely inside the flat, to empty out any remaining liquids and curl up somewhere warm to sleep off everything but the shame. Never before have I lost control to the point where I couldn't get home unassisted - it's given me a good scare.

I wear a size 13 or 14, depending on the brand of shoe.