After a long period of staring into what seemed to be my reflection, I suddenly realized that I was fucking exhausted. and drunk. This was the third night in a row that I had remained in this shitty little motel room, walking across the street to get taco bell and a variety of drinks at the liquor store next door, approximately 8pm each night. What was I doing in the bathroom, even? Taking a piss, right? But then why was I in front of the sink? I didn't remember flushing the toilet. But the floor was wet. Oh fuck!
I was drawing a bath, and my stupid fuck of a self was just standing there half passing out and just staring. Just staring, paying no goddamn attention to the fact that I had been waiting for this bath for at least ten minutes, and that is when I slipped on the soaking wet tile floor and fell straight toward the shower wall, knowing for sure that I was about to drown in the overflowing bath tub, but then something strange happened.
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