My thoughts wander back to the previous night, assessing the damage. Had I picked an argument? Emptied the kitchen of snacks? Had I texted any friends with 'great ideas' or bought anything online on the spur of the moment?
Well, you did it again. Was it the tequila, the summer heat, or just the fact that you never let an itch go unscratched which led you to be opening your eyes very slowly and staring up in mild discomfort at a ceiling you've never seen before?