Let’s get one thing straight.
All you young bloods having a good time 3-4 nights a week and still managing to function the next day, please know this: Adult hangovers are no joke.
When you’re 21, 22, 23 years old, you always hear people in their late 20s and early 30s mention how they just can’t drink like they used to.
I definitely did, but never listened. Not as closely as I should have, anyway.
I never took their simple statements as the cautionary tales they were meant to be.
It’s not even like they were whining about how lame being a grownup is. Really, they had simply succumbed to the fact that alcohol was affecting them in a much different way than it had five or six years prior.
Now I know the struggle all too well.
Being a hungover adult is THE WORST.
But the toll isn’t just physical. Your mental well-being takes just as much of a hit.
Let us count the ways:
- I’m convinced that the older you get, the more water your body requires. I could drink 60+ oz. of water every day, Monday thru Friday, and still come home from a Friday night drinking feeling as though I hadn’t seen H2O in WEEKS. My mouth is dry, my brain actually feels shriveled, and as much as I want to sweat everything out, I literally cannot. There is not a drop of sweatable liquid in me.
- Speaking of brains feeling shriveled, the headaches are like migraines but worse because YOU HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF.
- As an adult, you’re likely responsible for at least one other living thing. Pets and children do not care that you’re essentially on your death bed. Screw your will to sleep at least four more uninterrupted hours – they have needs and you are the only person who can fulfill them. Did I mention those needs are very urgent? Bathroom breaks, breakfast, human touch!
Enjoy sleeping in while you can because there will come a day when it’s just no longer an option and you probably won’t even see that day coming until it’s too late.
- Adults are also big on scheduling things. Brunches, appointments, other random meetings you make just for the sake of feeling important as you jot ’em down in your planner. These engagements are indifferent to what you did the night before.
You knew that 10 o’clock breakfast was a solid 25-minute drive across town. Again, nobody to blame for that cranky ‘tude but yourself, my friend.
(Though, it does feel a little better blaming inanimate objects like the five vodka waters and two double-chees you inhaled before bed.)
- You can act like you wouldn’t eat those cheeseburgers, but when you’re drunk (and/or already hungover), grease is all you crave.
Therein lies the biggest hit to your psyche – all that hard work you put in at the gym four of the last five days is about to be totally undone by your wasted will to “soak up” everything you just drank, convinced it will help you “feel so much better in the morning.”
ANYONE WHO SAYS THEY’VE NEVER DONE THIS IS A LIAR.
- And yeah, okay, you can sit there and be like “I’ve had hangovers before. I know what they’re like. I’ll be fine.”
In your early 20s, hangovers last maybe three hours. Then your young bod remembers it’s a young bod and magically rejuvenates itself, injecting in you a new form of energy that could probably power every major city west of the Mississippi if only we knew how to harness it.
But adult hangovers consume your entire day. If you’re not sleeping until dinnertime, you’re at one of the aforementioned engagements wishing you could sleep until dinnertime. Then, even when dinnertime rolls around, all you want is more grease before going back to bed.
So yes, I may have experienced one of these hangovers fairly recently and obviously have quite a few feelings to work through.
But I recount these horror stories out of love and concern for *your well-being.
Have as much fun as possible now, while the consequences are still but blips on a radar.
Rather than a storm front rolling through, sending urgent weather alerts across your screen, with no sign of when the downpour of pain and exhaustion may end.
And you wonder why I drink in the first place?
Title Credit: R.E.M.
*Maybe three people under the age of 25 read my blog, so if you know anyone still in college, just send this their way.