wasted

I truly understand the word wasted now. I thought it was just another meaningless word that meant you had consumed too much alcohol. Like any word can if said in the right context or tone. But I woke up this morning, fully dressed in the clothes I had left my flat in last night, feeling like I truly understood the word. I don’t remember how I got home. I don’t remember much of the last couple of hours of my evening. I remember doing more rounds of tequila than I bothered to count. I remember I didn’t pay for most of them, but that I did pay for at least one round of drinks. I wasted my money and everyone else’s. I wasted my evening because I can’t remember most of it. I wasted my friend’s evening because he had to take me home when it became obvious that I couldn’t even hold my head up. I wasted the whole of today because I felt horrendous and I wasted more money trying to shake that feeling. Last night I was more than tipsy, a little beyond legless I imagine and, yes, totally wasted.