I think in my delirious mind, I was gonna chat for an hour or so, get some sleep, and everything was gonna go ahead as planned.
I probably should have known my personality better than that.
Cut to around...9am...10am? It gets hazy.... I was still online, laughing and joking with the friends I'd made...mainly at my own expense about how the hell I was gonna get through the day on literally no sleep.
(Little did they know, I'd barely slept for the days preceding this either so it was actually even more ridiculous).
Within 4 hours of abandoning the laptop I was showered, staring dead-eyed into my dressing table mirror, having applied and removed an entire face of makeup 3 times, and eventually settling on a clean face with a little eye makeup, before I murdered myself over my aesthetic.
Never have I had to dredge up enthusiasm for a gig so hard in my LIFE before.
Of course, the second I walked out of my front door it started lashing it down with rain, so by the time I got on my (late) train, I was a very soggy, very grumpy girl.
Here - it may be helpful to picture me walking through a busy town centre early on a Sunday in fishnet tights, a hoody that basically covered my outfit and somehow made it look sluttier, and cat ears, getting absolutely drenched in the crappy weather, much to the glee of passers by.
Eventually, I arrived at the destination train station, somehow managed to find my way out of a back exit, had to find my way back in, found my way to the front and met my friend.
I was on the phone to him throughout this fiasco and he thought is was hilarious. I did not.
Around 5pm we finally go get some food and it's like I've consumed the animal's lifeforce to reawaken my own. We hit up a local smokehouse and I literally just sit there tearing half a chicken apart like I haven't eaten in years and grunt at him occasionally (he's going through a rough breakup, talks a lot right now, great for me when I'm half dead).
I finally perk up from this point onwards and we head to the venue.
The gig was crazy emotional, it's always a mad gig when you know you're seeing a band for the last time and they know they're playing their last round of shows...even the pits... one minute you got an elbow to the face, the next you were almost all cuddling and crying.
As I'm sure you can imagine, I came out looking far more bedraggled than when I went in, but I was rolling on a post gig high and feeling fine... until we got to the coach station.
I sat down to wait for my coach and my whole body just kind of....melted.
I went from standing to almost lying on the floor.
Meanwhile my so-called pal is laughing at me like I'm the best meme he's seen since 2013.
No coach journeys have ever felt longer than those ones; and no walk home has ever felt longer than the 20 minute walk from the coach station to my flat.
I collapsed into bed at around 4am Monday morning and only woke up at about 6.30pm... I feel like I'm becoming nocturnal.
All in all though... I survived the day after the night before...just not the day after that!