Was The Night Fun, Or Trash?

Yesterday/Tuesday, after work, I went downtown.  There was a flag I needed to drop off at the bar where our ex-club sees all of our alma mater's football Games, but the manager wasn't there.  Still, I dropped it off with one of the servers whom I know.  Hope it gets hung up, but I am kind of scared that, somehow, it'll get lost or something.

Then, I had some time to kill.  Maybe.  Hell, I just decided to go to a basement bar (not necessarily a speakeasy; there is a sign above the front door) not necessarily to have a drink but to see if these cool server was working there.  He was, and it had been a long time since I saw him, so I was happy to catch up with him.  I usually get two drinks when I sit down, but I had a beer at the bar, so it was only one cocktail, and just because the dips are good there, I had fries, too.  Big mistake; near the end of finishing the fries, I was burping to the point where I was throwing up a little in my mouth.

I got home, popped an antacid (didn't really help), then fell asleep.  Didn't want to sleep all night because I had lime juice getting loose in the fridge, and I wanted to make another cosmopolitan for myself (see, that's why I didn't get a second cocktail).  I managed to nap for only an hour, which allowed me to make myself that cosmo, but since it was between 10:30 and 11:30, I don't know if I'll be able to conk off for bed.  Which is why I wonder if this was a fun night or an effed-up one.