Oh what a lovely tea party!

What was I thinking?

What in the hell was it that pushed me to the point where I thought I could handle the machine...control it?

The smoothed cement floor was cold, that is the first thing I remember. The floor was cold and I felt disoriented as hell, the kind of feeling that overcomes you when you stand up too fast...a head rush.

The walls were kind of off-green, light with scratchings all around them. I tried to stay calm, looking around slowly and squinting hard, trying to shake the eyesores in the blinding light coming from the buzzing flourescent bulbs running lenghtwise overhead. The room was small, the lights buzzed and a stainless steel toilet and faucet combo that is definately not found in the Sears catalog ran water lightly in the far corner of the room. I remember thinking how someone should really fix that and conserve that water.

There were no windows in the room save for one that sat about 8"x8" in the corner directly opposite the running toilet. Voyeurism makes me sick, but what gives me a far worse feeling in the pit of my stomach is the instance at which you realize you are in a room with a window that sits on a door with no visible handle. I was stuck here and there was no way out.

There is quite possibly no worse feeling I have ever felt than waking up on a freezing January morning incarcerated, knowing only that but a few hours before, you were sitting in a beautiful bar with beautiful people drinking beautiful scotch, and now you are sitting there in the cold, alone, and not sure what you have done that landed you here. Did I kill someone...all I could think of was vehicular manslaughter, a thought that choked me up and left me gasping for air.

I guess I consider myself lucky, looking at the situation. I was drunk beyond recognition. I drove my car in a blackout state, and nobody was hurt. Nothing was hurt except for my future, but knowing that I still have one is enough. Don't drink and drive, friends...it is never worth it.