Until the next time, never again

I wake up with half a ten pound note stuffed in my pocket to find I've been sleeping on the door knob I stole from last night's restaurant. It's difficult to focus on these things though, as a monkey in stink is climbing through my head clashing his cymbals in my eyeballs. Surely a new low. I stagger out of bed and try to keep balance as my room sloshes from side to side. The sea is choppy today my friends, and I clutch to the walls, hang on to radiators, just to stay vertical. I make it to the door by edging my way around the house, clinging to kitchen surfaces, jumping from jutting cupboard to cupboard. Out on the street things are no better, bushes keep attacking me, hedges jump out and jostle my tousled hair with their stray branches. I sway and almost vomit three times. I make it to the cafe, order two of everything fried, drink a full glass of orange juice and pull on my sunglasses.