Hangovers never are an exciting time. They are, at the very least, a pain in the butt to deal with. But at their very worst, a person can be rendered absolutely worthless.
It's times like those that sleeping on the bathroom floor is perfectly legitimate ... because everyone knows that making the journey from the bed to the toilet is far too taxing. Shivers are replaced with sweat every minute or two, and throbbing of the brain is enough to drive a person mad.
Luckily I haven't experienced that sort of brutality in a long while. However, it seems like even a few glasses of wine with dinner these days is enough to set my stomach (and gag reflex) into full-on war.
This is all new to me. And I'm not happy.
My college days were much like most everyone's college days. I studied hard, worked hard, played hard. Everything was 100 percent - sometimes 110 percent. That included partying.
What better way to get rid of all that stress accumulated through hours of lectures, tests, paper writing and student newspaper design than to throw back a few (many) beers while honing one's conversation skills. And that's what we did ... almost daily. And do you know what? ... I can count on one hand the number of memorable hangovers I had in college. ONE HAND!!!
But alas, times have changed.
These days, it seems as though every time I have one too many, I get a nasty headache, stomach ache or both. Oh, and "one too many" generally means anything more than two or three drinks.
I realize I'm no longer professionally trained in the sport of drinking. But come on! As if getting older wasn't bad enough. Now, trying to numb the aches and pains only adds more.