The diary of a hangover

so thursday night i managed to get drunk, and not just get wobbly, say something stupid, text an ex, have a headache in the morning drunk, but the more severe kind of gaps in the night, definatley did something to offend someone, hoping everyone i know is still speaking to me, my wallet was completely empty when i got home kind of drunk, oh and of course.. worst of all, i danced, enthusiastically.

not that i'm complaining about this, i mean, of course every moment was hideous, unbearable, empty suffering and woe.. as is life, but in relative terms, i had a good time as i believe, and so far.. nobody has hit me, so. 

however everyone gets drunk, and there's nothing more tedious than reading about other peoples nights out on the internet, what is always a pleasure to hear about though, is of course, the suffering, the following days.. the hangover

now i'm one of these people who believes the best way to kill a hangover is to sleep through it, this deals with a lot of the physical sides to it, sleep till you physically can't sleep anymore, get up, poop, maybe do a bit of sick, clean your teeth and you start to feel almost alive again (if one of course, can ever feel truly alive when we are all so dead inside).. but the physical side of a hangover is the same as having flu.. and i think we'd all be happy never to have to hear anybody whinge about having flu ever again.. WE DON'T CARE! JUST PISS OFF SNOTTY.

the real fun part of the hangover is the misery, they say alcohol is a depressant and lord are they right, the only thing worse for the ego is being booted in the balls by a girl in front of everybody you know.. erm.. i would imagine.. *cough* so we have about 24hours of complete self-doubt, of course coupled with THE FEAR (what did i do? do they hate me now? is this gonna look bad on my cv? should i have given more money to charity? where the hell is my sock? how can i live with only one sock? oh my god their gonna have to amputate!)

this then passes into the introspective part of the hangover, you've rationalised everything 700 times and decided that, after all, you can't have done anything that bad or you'd have had a date with either pc plod or a baseball bat.. or at very least somebody will have put something on the internet on which devil horns and/or a tiny penis had been added to a photo of you and the words LOL used somewhere, but you're ego is a needy bastard and you're not satisfied with simply 'getting away with it' no.. you're little bastard of an ego has one question.. which it keeps repeating, in song, like an annoying child until you're stood holding a kitchen knife in one hand, a book on anatomy in the other hand screaming WHERE ARE YOU YOU BASTARD I'M GONNA GET YOU SO BAD! 

ahem

that question us of course, 'am i a bad person?'

now we're all human so everybodies answer to that question is inevitable. 'of course i am, i'm not fit to walk the earth, they should wrap me up in a soggy rug and hide me in a freezer till the develop 'good person' serum' - of course as well, being human, we've by now lost all grip on any specific faults brought up by the said night out at the evening box social where there was jovial banter, friendly games of cards and perhaps a waltz - so our self doubts are shot from all over the place.. i don't eat well, i never exercise, my house is a mess, i have no purpose, my life is a waste, will i ever love again, why can't i find that damn sock

so here comes the productive part of he hangover, in a desperate attempt to fix EVERYTHING with the lease effort possible, a jolt of motivation will make you set about a full spring clean, at least 2 meals that aren't fried and 50 press ups... that'll do, the wasted non purpose life and need for love will save, and it's best not to think about the sock.

then of course this being 2006, we'll blog about it, so everybody can join in our meaningless lives and share in our woe.

(sorry to anyone i offended on thursday)