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I have literally never experienced such an excruciating headache ever before in my life as I have in this current moment.

As of now I am sitting in front of my laptop screen staring at the brightness with bloodshot eyes, cradling my head with both hands while my fingers pull at my hair at the mishap that has occurred.

How on earth did I get this drunk? I only remember getting to the club, dancing with one guy and then nothing. Nada. Just the exhilarating memory of his tanned arms wrapped around my torso playing in my head like a broken record. Who even was the guy? Did I get his name? Or a phone number maybe? I rummaged around in my purse only to find a note that said in graceful, slanted handwriting: “We will meet again, mi amor.” I crumpled it up and threw it on the ground. Thanks for the help, genius.

My apartment looked appalling to say the least. A heap of clothes lay on the floor my dressing table a mess from the night before and shoes of all shapes and sizes scattered around the place. But that was the least of my concerns. What was most concerning was the numerous pictures on my Instagram account circling the Internet like wildfire.

36 likes and an onslaught of hypocritical comments.

Wow. Okay.

The very first thing I did was delete them. Then I went through the camera roll. Oh god.

There were pictures of my mouth overflowing with what looked like a bottle of vodka in my hand, my cleavage shining and proudly out and about on display but still covering the important bits. The next was a series of blurred pictures filled with cheeky smiles and boisterous laughter, the faces spreading wide across the screen.

I clicked on the last picture and zoomed in on each of the ruggedly handsome faces. I knew none of them but together we looked like a gang of very attractive best friends with the way we were hugging each other, pearly whites adorning our faces.

All of a sudden my phone shot up from its discharge induced sleep and wouldn’t stop blinking. I thought it would commit suicide by buzzing right off the table.

“Looks like someone had a rough night lmao”

“Wow, partying hard huh?”

“Whose the hottie on the left?”

Thank god it was just my friends poking fun at me. I was not ready to face the criticism just yet. I was in too much pain to be angry at this point.

I sighed and flopped on to my bed wishing the earth would just swallow me up. How. Embarrassing. Also I had my cousins on Instagram. Would they tell my family?

I let out a slew of curses and got to dialing them but then I remembered they must still be sleeping cause of the time difference. I’ll just leave them a message when I get this headache off my back I thought to myself and got back up to get a glass of water.

Could this day get any worse?