drunk cooking is stupid

Woke up with a throbbing head ache (or hangover, choose your pick), and also a throbbing, dull-and-sharp-at-the-same-time-pain in my finger!! Figuring out why my head was in pain was no rocket science--the alcohol staining my breath helped. But why my finger was in so much pain was a mystery to me. I squinted my eyes and tried to focus on my left index finger and made out a very bloody excuse for a band-aide wrapped tightly around the top of my finger. Hm. Ok, a cut. Interesting.

But upon pulling myself out of bed and looking around my room, I noticed that my bed sheets were also smeared with blood in messy splotches here and there. The walls of my room, the door, carpet, door handle, clothes, and bag had splotches of blood as well. Something wasn't quite right. I glanced at my aching finger and raised a curious eyebrow. The blood all over my room had to come from somewhere, and although I obviously had a cut on my finger, it seemed to be rather small to have bled all that...well, blood!

After giving myself some time to remember the previous night and also many glasses of water, little bits and pieces of what had happened began to return to me. I had started my Friday night with the first drink of the week with a colleague, and I remember thinking how delicious it was! After coming home, I drank a little in the cafe with the Chiba family, and then helped Ken out with the wine he had received from one of his many fans. I don't remember feeling especially drunk, but i reckon I must have been because a. I only had a coffee and a sandwich that day and b. it was my first drink in 6 solid days!

I must have been feeling hungry, because I distinctly remember trying to peel and mince some garlic up for a soup of some kind, and naturally, I'm guessing that's when I cut my finger.

I do remember panicking. I remember blood drip, drip, dripping from the cut. I remember not feeling any pain too, which kind of freaked me out because there was so much blood everywhere! I'm talking about puddles on the floor, smudges on the table, on the cutting board, knife, counter, sink, hallway, ... everywhere!

According to Ken, I was quite drunk and very annoying. (To be fair, i was drunk!!) The kind soul managed to overcome the annoyance he felt at the moment and patched my finger up with a band-aid and cleaned up the aftermath, except the mess in my room. That would explain my bloody bedsheets and walls.


Moral of the evening I drank too much:

Cooking when you're drunk is a very stupid idea.

P.S.

It's been a few days, and my cut keeps reopening. I think I may need stitches. Although, I am positive I won't go to get stitched up whether I need to or not.