LOL, I had kind of the same experience...I had drunk myself insensible, and the group of people I was with, not knowing what else to do, dumped me on the lawn. (It wasn’t February!)
At some point I came to, made it to the front door and kind of came to a grinding halt functionally with my face pressed against the vertical glass pane on the side of the door, and my mother in her nightgown walked by as I stood frozen, unable to figure out how to get my keys out and open the door.
A look of puzzlement crossed her face, and she came over and opened the door (that I was leaning on) and I fell face down into the house.
I began to crawl to the toilet, and she walked after me, berating me and kicking me in the ass.
I made it up to my room, and woke up fully clothed the next morning on my back in the bed, feet on the floor, arms stretched to either side, with no conception of where I was or where I had been. I had a wide brim leather hat and wore glasses, neither was there.
I couldn’t find them, and my memory was coming back, so I thought they might be on the lawn. They weren’t. I saw a shape in the driveway, it was my crushed hat and crushed glasses where they had obviously driven over them in their haste to leave.
I have had six hangovers in my life, and that was one of them. Until she died, my mother would recount to my discomfiture the ass kicking she gave me as I crawled along the floor...I think she rather enjoyed in an odd way recounting that story to me, and how could I blame her?
History never repeats itself exactly,
but sometimes it rhymes!