Fear and Loathing in London

I have got to stop doing this. Yet again I am at work, hungover as fuck having not been home all night. A and I (who else?) were out with workmates for someone's leaving do last night. We decided pints of Stella were the way forward and consumed many, along with tequila shots. We were relatively well behaved up until the end of the night when, just as we were loitering in the main area of the bar wondering whether it was worth cabbing it into Soho, we were approached by a cute guy wearing specs asking what we were up to. At this point we were keen to do anything other than go home so we latched onto Specs and his friend who suggested we go back to Spec's flat which happened to be a couple of streets away from the bar and our office. I don't know how we manage it but again we'd found a guy who was apparently very, very wealthy and lived alone. His two bedroom flat in Marylebone looked like something out of Elle Decoration complete with a real zebra rug on the lounge floor (Specs took great delight in showing us the bullet hole in it's head - urgh), dark wood trim on everything and bathrooms with slate tiles and Molten Brown products all over the place.

The night rapidly got extremely debauched. The party favours came out, the drink flowed and A and I threw ourselves bodily into the whole night with absolutely no regard for the consequences facing us in the morning.
I can't remember at what point the porn went on but I remember glancing up at the TV, seeing it and not being remotely peturbed. I also realised at this point that the friend had gone and it was just the three of us left. Specs had been kissing me at random points throughout the night and I suddenly decided I really wanted to go down on him. A was fine where she was so I dragged him into the bedroom and started to blow him. Unfortunately my mouth was completely dry to the point where I couldn't actually produce any saliva so, embarrassingly, I had to stop and go for water. I wandered through into the lounge, sipping from a glass and sat down with A to watch the porn, temporarily losing interest in my previous activity.
Specs came in having had a shower in just a towel. He really had the most gorgeous body so the combination of that, the porn and being utterly off my face meant I decided I wanted to have sex with him, right then. I stripped off and lay back on the zebra rug (urgh) while he went down on me very enthusiastically. Now, I've never had a threesome and although this wasn't one, nothing prepared me for experiencing this kind of thing in front of one of my best friends. Had I been sober...well, had I been sober that never would have happened but hypothetically had I been sober I wouldn't have been able to relax but as it was I really got into it. After quickly slipping a condom on (thank God I had one), he fucked me. Right there, on the zebra rug in front of my friend who was texting her boyfriend.
Afterwards A and I went to bed in his room and Specs took the spare room. This morning we woke up to find him pottering about getting ready for work. He left us in the flat and we slowly got ourselves together. Fortunately we were five minutes away from work so after a quick detour to McDonalds we were able to arrive half an hour early. Luckily, because everyone here was out last night, our hangovers have blended in with everyone else's and so far no one has commented that we're wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

I worry about myself though, I really do. I don't understand what makes me do this kind of stuff or exactly what I'm trying to run away from or replace. There's got to be something because this behaviour is not normal. The self loathing is mainly due to the hangover, I know that but I also know that I need to sort myself out. I woke up really missing N and wishing he was around. Maybe all I'm doing is creatively killing time until he gets home and I can see whether I have a potential relationship on my hands. Honestly though, crochet really would be a better way of doing it.