Good morning, sunshine. You don’t look so hot. What’s the matter, are you… hungover? But I couldn’t possibly be—What, hungover? Well, I’ve got news for you: I’m your unexpected hangover and I’m here to ruin your day.
But I didn’t even get drunk. I only had two glasses of wine with dinner. Ah, ah, ah. Correction: you had two AND A HALF glasses of wine. It was that extra half which really titled the scales in my favor. This is what you reap for flying too close to the sun on wings of Shiraz.
Why is this happening? I’ve drank way more than what I drank last night and still not felt like this. Yes, you thought you were being so responsible. I mean, you were basically teetotalling. Two and a half glasses. That’s nothing. Kids in Europe drink more than that with their school lunch.
I don’t understand, I felt fine before bed. You no longer need to get intoxicated to feel my wrath. I even drank a full glass of water before going to sleep. That’s precious. A full glass of water. You think that’s enough to prevent me from showing up whenever I want, at your age?
You feel that sharp pain behind your eyes, spreading to your temples? It’s headache time, sleepy face. Go ahead, stumble to the bathroom cupboard and reach for the painkillers. You might as well pop a placebo pill because I am impervious to modern medicine. I’ve been punishing people like you since the dawn of the fermented grape.
What, you thought you could let your hair down a little last night just because you’d made it through to Wednesday? “I can enjoy a couple glasses of wine,” you thought. “I’ve earned it. Besides, it’s not like I have to worry about getting a hangover.” That’s what makes this so special. I’ve been hiding in the proverbial bushes waiting to ambush your sorry, unsuspecting ass. Surprise!
Boy, I hope you’ve got a clear schedule today. Ugh, work. I’ve got work. And the kids have—Well, you better get your shit together. Speaking of shit, I hope you weren’t planning on having a solid bowel movement this morning. Or anytime today. That gnawing, churning feeling in your stomach? That’s also my handiwork. You’re welcome.
Look at you, standing dazed in the kitchen. Go ahead and hide the bottle of wine from last night. It may be out of sight, but it’s not out of mind. Just the thought of it brings up the hot, sour taste of bile.
Welcome to queasy street, party animal. Are you using the deep breathing technique from your yoga class? I’m impressed. I’ll even give you a moment of respite. Enjoy it while it lasts because that nausea is coming in unrelenting waves, baby.
Thinking of eating something? Here’s the catch 22: you need food to feel better, but the thought of eating anything makes you feel sick. You’re in a bit of a quandary, my forlorn friend.
You seem sluggish. That’s right, you would have had a coffee by now. Don’t feel up to having it, a tad too acidic for your sensitive tummy? I hope you’ve got some peppermint tea handy because that’s the only thing you’ll be able to stomach.
Sending one of your children on an errand to buy you a Gatorade? There aren’t enough electrolytes in the entire world to help you. And I know something that you don’t: the store is all out of the blue flavor, sucker!
Googling hangover cures, huh? I love it when people do that. Ooh, that one sounds good. A raw egg with Tabasco sauce. Try that one. Do it, please. There’s no way that could horribly backfire.
You’re even contemplating that old “hair of the dog” wives’ tale, aren’t you? This isn’t your college days, sweet cheeks. Be my guest, fan my flames. I dare you. I double-fucking dare you.
Is that a fart or is something more sinister brewing and hoping to surreptitiously slip out? You can’t even trust your own body right now. I’m the Wizard of Oz pulling the levers behind the curtain of your bodily functions.
Go ahead, take a shower. Hot, cold, it doesn’t matter. Either way, you’ll be cowering naked, rethinking your whole life, and wondering when this will end. Spoiler alert! Not until you’ve put in a full day’s work and I’ve run you ragged.
It can’t get much worse, right? Look at it this way, you’ve only been up for half an hour and I’m just getting started. You’ve got a long day ahead of you, Sisyphus. On the bright side, you still have half a bottle of wine you can use to unwind once this is all over. Now there’s an idea I can raise my glass to. Cheers!