How a Hangover Goes When You’re 28 and You Haven’t a Care in
the World:
1. Leave bar. Notice that you maybe drank too much. Stop at a drive-through for a weird 2am
burrito because burritos soak up alcohol.
2. Gulp a glass of
water with three Advil so you won’t have a headache when you wake up.
3. Sleep until about
11:30 the next morning. You awaken with
a funny feeling in your head and gut, so you go for brunch with your
friends. A melty omelet and a pile of
fried potatoes will fix you right up.
4. Carry on with your
day as though nothing ever happened because you are young and vital and no
amount of ill-advised tequila will stand in your way.
How a Hangover Goes When You’re 38 and You Have Produced
Children:
1. Stop at the
drive-through on the way home from the bar to get weird 2am burrito because you
remember that this type of thing helped you when you were 28. Scarf burrito, then immediately regret it
because OHMAHGOD IT BURNS WHY DOES IT BURN SO BAD.
2. Arrive at home
with fire-burrito-boulder in your belly.
Have a brief conversation with the babysitter in which you try to look
as sober as possible and she plays along because ha ha look at the drunk old
people.
3. Check on children,
put on your jammies, and perform your entire face-washing routine complete with
the application of 3-4 anti-wrinkle potions.
You are an adult and skincare is important. Marvel at how amaaaaazing your skin looks
when you’ve had four gin and sodas and, god help you, a shot of Fireball.
4. Gulp a glass of
water with three Advil because you are very clever and there is no reason that
28-Year-Old Things shouldn’t work on a 38-year-old. Fall asleep with a prayer on your lips that
your children will miraculously sleep super late in the morning and will get
their own breakfasts and also make no sounds before 10:00am.
5. Wake up at 4:03am
to a child sleeping on your face. Notice
that a brain-melting headache has taken residence in your skull. Drift back to sleep anyway because if there’s
anything you’ve learned by having children, it’s that you can sleep anywhere
and through anything. You’re a grownup,
dammit.
6. Awaken with the
first child at 6:27am. Get in a whisperfight with spouse over who will rise
with that child; lose fight, roll out of bed while shooting murder lasers at
spouse with your eyes.
7. Take stock of your
physical situation: you’re nauseated
(You might barf. Pretty sure you’re
gonna barf,) the brain-melting headache is still there, and, inexplicably, your
whole self is bloated. Like, you are so
puffy that you can see your own face without looking in a mirror.
8. Try to think of
something you could eat that is not revolting.
Give up and feebly sip orange juice until your kid is done with his
breakfast. Eat 1/8 of a pancake and the
squishy part of the banana. Gag.
9. Spend the rest of
the day following your children around, hoping that they’ll fall asleep. Periodically lock eyes with your spouse with
a look that says, “WHY. WHY DID WE DRINK
SO MUCH. WE ARE VERY STUPID.” Put the kids to bed at like 6:45. Tell them that it is 8:30. It’s fine.
They can’t tell time and sleep is very good for children.
10. Wake up the next
day. Notice that you are still nauseated
and that the whole see-your-face-without-a-mirror situation is still going
on. Decide that what you need is
exercise. Yes! You will go to the gym! You will flush out the toxins! Fitness will save you!
11. Get about 7
lunges into your Group Exercise Lungey Class and realize that this will not go
well. Make Baby Chocolate Lab faces at the
instructor in hopes that she will take pity on you and tell you to go take a
nap. She does not do this. You hate her.
12. Finally. Finally after two days and three naps and a
lungey class and 14 refills of your water bottle and those deep breathing
exercises you learned in yoga and copious amounts of bad-word-saying, you feel
better. The hangover has released its grip
on your soul and you can once again function properly in your grownup adult
life.
13. Think about
swearing off that one dive bar forever and ever but quickly decide against it
because, let’s face it, that dive bar is fun.
It has karaoke and a bartender with a completely unironic Joe Dirt
mullet and it smells exactly like a dive bar ought to. But you will do this one thing, because you
are 38 and not 28: when Joe Dirt Mullet Man offers you a FREE WELL DRINK token because he saw you drinking a gin and soda, you will politely
decline. You will ask him for the
Tanqueray (or whatever the good gin is, you don’t really know) because you are
a grownup and that’s what grownups do.
