Sep 28, 2011
The poor girl in our dorm previously returns and decides to have a late drink with myself and Paddy, who in spite of being an Irishman has remained on the Sprites. She's specifically asked him not to leave her alone with me as she's afraid I'm totally crazy. I don't doubt for one second she is right.
I'm straight back on it as soon as I wake up. I've no idea why, but I've got an itch and it hasn't been scratched. For some strange reason, I end up tanking it all day today, actually to the point of drinking the bar dry of beer. I'm really the only one at it too, which beggars belief. Drinking alone is a sure sign of the alcoholic. For a few hours I'm clinging on to youth, to those times when you could blaze for a weekend and come out smiling on the other side. It doesn't take much time to realise those days are long gone. If I keep this up I'm going to be found dead in a pool of my own vomit, piss and shit.