The truth hurts....literally

I think I'm delerious, I've just realised that I've walked out of the gym with one of their towels although walked may be an overexaggeration.  NEVER and I mean NEVER EVER EVER tell your trainer that you've been on the piss all weekend just before you start your training session.
Cycle sprint intervals (on the third one I was tactically working out the best place for me to chunder and I would ask for some credit that at no stage did I contemplate turning right to aim my projectile at the evil sweat-meister as he stood cackling with sadistic laughter at my panting).  I managed to keep the bile down and survive that tiny hell session and then moved onto ViPR, kettlebells, pressups, squats, tricep dips, bicep curls and some one arm rows with the biggest kettlebells I'd ever seen - I could hardly lift them up with both hands never mind one arm - I think I'm getting Stockholm syndrome because when Mark allowed me to only do 10 in the second set rahter than curse him under my breathe, I was pathetically grateful and thought what a nice man he is.  Then we finished off with some ab torture that I would officially describe as "horrid" and still managed to include the ViPR, a medicine ball and a swiss ball - I can't go into any further description or I'll get flashbacks and won't be able to sleep.  I couldn't even hand over the cash to the man in Waitrose for my healthy soup without my hands shaking like a junkie (although it may still be the dt's from the weekend's boozing).  I have now consumed 2 litres of water and the shaking has stopped but I'm supposed to be doing a spin session at a ridiculous time tomorrow morning but I'm not convinced that the sight of a bike isn't going to send my into a hysterical breakdown - so maybe for the good of everyone I should just get an extra hour in bed instead........?