Queen of corruption capital

Okay so this story is almost a little bit too random not to tell...
Yesterday, I spent most of my day with the family celebrating my little cousin's birthday. I came home tired as shit and then my "not really my boyfriend but practically my boyfriend" guy asked me to come out to Fionn's. In all honesty, I was way too tired to go and I didn't want to pay for a cab but after telling my friend that I wanted to go but wasn't entirely down to find the means of getting there and coming back, she told me she'd meet up with me there and then drive me home. So I went.
Anyway, I think I must be the bestestest friend of all time ever, while simultaneously being the worst influence ever because when my "not really my boyfriend but practically my boyfriend" guy put it in my mind that my friend ought'a hook up with one of his best friends, I instantly did everything in my will and power to make that happen.
I'm a little bit of a tragedy at best, but I do recall telling my best friend the following: "It's YOUR summer, bitch, I'm not down to be a whore this summer, but there's nothing stopping you from being one!!"
Mind you, I was pretty drunk at this point, sure those words were a little bit aggressive, but I'm pretty sure that my effort led to 50% of the following events that part-took throughout the course of the night and I suppose 40% was due to the guy's charisma while the remaining 10% was due to my friend's willingness to do whatever it was she did on her own..

Anyway, after getting to a friends house and passing out on a futon with my "not really my boyfriend but practically my boyfriend" guy in the same room with his friend and my friend, I wake up at roughly 5:30AM to a text message from my friend telling me that she left, not even 10 minutes prior, and she dropped off my purse in front of a bush beside my house. Followed by another text saying "Arriving home with my bra and panties in hand, can't get much classier."

Honestly, I slept through whatever the hell happened last night, save for a moment where I woke up to Carly Rae Jepson and started singing it. Other than that.. well, it's her summer, right? I could potentially be such a horrible friend, but realistically, I never left her metaphorical side and I think my judgment played out pretty well last night. I think I should make my rounds setting my friends up with potential hook ups for the rest of the summer because lord knows that's what I've always been good at, considering that I'm terrible at doing it for myself.

I may as well corrupt my friends since I'm done being corrupted. It was nice being with my "not my boyfriend but practically my boyfriend" guy last night. Anyway, I had a good morning, to say the least.

A night like any other night: sexually torn but knowing exactly what I wanted..

Saturday night (last night) was a fairly eventful night for me, to say the least, but I wouldn't say it was eventful in my favor. I had fun, don't get me wrong, but I was frustrated because I was literally torn between who to go home with. At the end of the day, it was a no-brainer, literally.

So, after about 6 months since I saw him last, my baby-daddy came down to Brampton to see our son for father's day weekend. Being a late Saturday, my baby-daddy's best friend and I decided to take him to a local bar after pre-drinking at my house, and so a night of drunken endeavors ensued thenceforth.

Went to Fionn MacCool's, the talent wasn't great, but hey, it was a fun night.
I spotted one of my childhood bestfriends and bought us both shots because it was his birthday last week. He insisted on buying me shots later on and like anyone else would, I took him up on the offer. Two cocktails, three glasses of beer, pornstars and two liquid cocaine shots later, I found myself conversing with a girl who randomly knows I'm in love with greek pasta salad about dancing like a hooker, having a pretty ravishing mack-sesh with the childhood bestfriend that I friend-zoned 7 years ago, then to be kissed by the greek-pasta girl... a couple times...and kind of enjoying it, then trying to establish whether I was cabbing home or cabbing to the boytoy's house after the bar and being absolutely torn between who I ought to go home with--rather, who I ought to sleep with that night..
I ended up taking a cab back to my house with the baby-daddy and his best friend, and after what only now seems to have been an awkward 10 minute cab-ride conversation about how both my baby-daddy and I filmed our sex with our most recent exes and then conversing about something regarding pig roasts before getting out of the cab, I went straight into my house ate some medley of shellfish, and passed out on my bed, sandwiched between my son and my new kitten.
It was remarkably relieving.

I think at the end of the day, living a life like mine, this triple-role lifestyle as a young mom, a business student, and a 20-year-old night-time slut, your priorities start to shine through when you decide to go straight home and into bed so that your son has you to wake up to every single morning. When sobriety hits, you become extremely relieved when you take in the fact that you didn't go to your buddy's house for a night of freaky drunken sex knowing that it would have resulted in a walk of shame up to the front door of your house at 5 AM, hoping you don't make noise because everyone knows you weren't at a bar until 5.
Yeah, I can thoroughly say that I'm glad that has never happened to me before. I'm happy to say that I don't think it ever will simply because even in my drunken state, my number one priority is making sure my son isn't affected by the ten-thousand different personas I need to be just to live my life and really enjoy it.