I had a fantastic Friday night.
Followed by a miserable Saturday. Not hung over, just congested, high fever. Whatever.
Took Saturday night off from drinking like a responsible person.
I wasn’t too upset by this because the Tuesday of finals week is the big night of the semester. Everyone goes out because there are never any finals scheduled on Wednesday.
So I was saving up.
Unfortunately, by Tuesday I wasn’t really feeling any better.
But, like the true champion I am, I decided to go out anyway. I mean, it’s Reading Day Eve.
It was a pretty fantastic night.
There were parties happening on almost every street corner.
Two of my roommates and I split a bottle of whiskey (on top of the random beers and margaritas I had consumed along the way).
I smoked probably half a pack of cigarettes. Maybe more.
There was so much dancing.
And, like the week before, I woke up miserable.
Except this time it was serious. I wasn’t just feverish and congested, I was coughing up blood.
I’ve heard that’s generally something you don’t want your body to do.
Fortunately, I got to the doctor today, got on some antibiotics, and am going to be fine.
But I may have learned an important lesson here. Don’t party while you’re sick.
On the other hand, it was such a good night.
Yeah, I would make the stupid decision again.
I’d party again.
Fuck my health.