Because the day at work had been extremely busy and demanding with the phone ringing constantly, being harrassed and interupted by rude and unpleasant people, then to top it all off Lydia's computer suddenly crashed wiping out every e-mail Lydia had gathered together ready to send. That was the last straw for Lydia so she spat the dummy stormed off out the door of the office and headed for home.
Feeling knackered along the way she dropped into the local bottle shop, bought a bottle of vodka, continued on her way at the same time downing the fiery liquid straight from the bottle relishing it's burning sensation all the way down her throat then crashing into the pit of her empty stomach making her shake and shiver with delight almost passing out.
Eventually Lydia found herself outside her ground floor flat, staggered up three slippery steps to the front door, fumbled around in her bulging purse for the front door key. Finding it she inserted it in the front door lock turning to unlock the door at the same time as pushing it open only to fall flat on her face in the carpeted hallway, mumbling to herself she felt a bit sloshed. Gripping the front door knob using it as leverage she negotiated her way off the floor staggered down the hallway at the same time losing some clothes along the way until she was down to black bra and panties, stumbled into the lounge room landed on the futon still grasping the empty bottle of vodka.
Rising from the futon Lydia headed for the lounge room door leading out to a small court yard, struggling to open the sliding door she then tripped on the door runner fell down the steps landing on her hands and knees on the concrete floor. Rising off the floor Lydia banged her head on the clothes line winding handle staggered backwards landing face first on the nearest garden bed down and out for the count. (c) 2010 Windsmoke.