alcoholic bones- by accident napping on a a black and white checkered kitchen floor

What she heard. Are you okay? She opened her eyes. And realized the ceiling was above her. A face was next to her talking to her. Are you okay? He says again. Around her black and white checkers evidence that she is on the floor of her kitchen. What am I doing on the kitchen floor? You passed out. Twice. This isn’t the first time this has happened. It had been awhile since she was awoken and jarred awake and found herself on a floor. Napping but not knowing how. How she had laid down for a shut eye. The last time it was a bathroom one. A public one. Gross she knew. But she was sober. And that was 5 plus years ago.

So as he is piecing it together for her. The lean on the corner of the cabinet and then the sliding down. Down to the ground. Gracefully passing out. She did. So she starts to rolodex through the reasons as to why she is sleeping on her kitchen floor and when she should get up. Probably soon. This isn’t the first time. Should she go to the doctor?

She felt lightheaded she remembered that. Something about closing her eyes and making out for the first time in months while intoxicated on a tolerance that would make her ancestors and relatives wince- not good enough for her irish alcoholic bones like hers. There was a half glass of wine served in plastic and beers not sure how many because the guy she just met and his friends bought them from her- the never empty glass of beer gets her every time. She has blacked out once before because she was drunk when she was still in the beginning of her tenure of drinking. She has passed out twice after making out with someone once sober, once intoxicated (this very time). She has passed out once because of stress. Should she get off this black and white floor? Should she die of embarrassment? Should she see a MD? Should she get herself to a meeting? Or just her bed?

She knows, knows something is going on but she isn’t sure what. The heart beats too hard too fast sometimes with or without the help of alcohol. The tingling reaching up higher to her head, felt upon her ever moving hands. Now lay still. As she got up taking his hand, she wasn’t sure what was going on inside of her. But she knew it was better to pass out on her kitchen floor than in a public bathroom in a bar while sober. What she heard. She heard. She heard she should wake up. Wake up and stand on this black and white floor. Stand on the black and white square smudged kitchen floor.