I did the same thing once (by accident, actually, in the sense that I hadn’t yet explored the limits of my alcohol tolerance.) Passed out on my friend’s stairs, had to be carried into a bedroom where I proceeded to vomit on myself, etc. Woke up the next morning at 7:30, left an apology note on the floor and wobbled out of my friend’s house, did grocery shopping on the way home, studied for a few hours, wrote my programming exam (got 84%, which was bad for me but probably still one of the higher marks in the class), coached a kids’ swim meet, and made it to dinner at my other friend’s house.
I wouldn’t do it again–it is self-handicapping–but telling the story does get reactions of awe.
I did the same thing once (by accident, actually, in the sense that I hadn’t yet explored the limits of my alcohol tolerance.) Passed out on my friend’s stairs, had to be carried into a bedroom where I proceeded to vomit on myself, etc. Woke up the next morning at 7:30, left an apology note on the floor and wobbled out of my friend’s house, did grocery shopping on the way home, studied for a few hours, wrote my programming exam (got 84%, which was bad for me but probably still one of the higher marks in the class), coached a kids’ swim meet, and made it to dinner at my other friend’s house.
I wouldn’t do it again–it is self-handicapping–but telling the story does get reactions of awe.