Geez Louise, I’m pretty sure this post St. Patty’s Day hangover is going down as the worst hangover I’ve ever experienced in my life. Ok, maybe not the worst- that award goes to the morning after my first encounter with a bottle of Patron- but this is by far the longest lasting one. It’s like a marathon, over 24 hours at this point and I’m still not right. UGH!
The night started off normally enough..went to mom and dads for a traditional St. Patty’s Day din din.
Yummers.
And I had two beers..only 2. No big deal. I was sober when I left so in my mind it was like I drank nothing. Afterwards, we went to Cristina and PJ’s with a bottle of rum in hand where a marathon of Taboo and Apples to Apples were on the agenda. I had about two drinks before we decided to make a coffee and snack run and that was the first time I felt it. The wedge’s that I wore at the beginning of the night were shockingly A LOT harder to walk in. But nope, didn’t faze me one bit. I still felt the need to come home and have 2 more rum and sprite cocktails. At that point I had a good buzz going and was content, sitting on the floor, laughing hysterically to myself at all of my prospective AtoA noun cards that I had in my hands. The minute we got home, I felt it- that first wave of nausea. When all was said and done it wasn’t too bad but I did think it was a brilliant idea to lay down and take a nap on the bathroom floor. I then found out that our bathroom rug was QUITE comfy. After a few minutes, and hubby coming to check on me, I figured it was a good idea to get up and go to bed…and I managed to make it through the night.
Morning came and I opened my eyes ever so cautiously, not knowing what to expect. I had about a half hour of feeling okay before it all just went to hell in a handbasket. I won’t go into the details of my Sunday but it was spent either miserable in the bathroom or on the couch alternating between sleep and watching a Harry Potter marathon. The one thing I do enjoy about a hangover? The guilt-free consumption of greasy fast food. When I finally do feel like I can venture into the world of food that’s always the only thing I can imagine myself keeping down. I know, the last thing I should be eating but whatever, I just go with it. My order for last night- McDonald’s chicken mcbites and a large fry…with extra dipping sauce [thanks to hubby for getting it just right].What a glorious meal that was but alas, it was not a cure all. It didn’t make me more sick but it didn’t make the yucky hangover feeling go away..nothing is seeming to do that since my stomach still feels like garbage.
I had no choice with work today- I had to go since I banged out one Friday 2 weeks ago. No way am I using 2 sick days in the first 3 months! It’s sad but I didn’t even care how I looked today because I knew a pretty outfit or a bucket of make-up would mask the mess that is me.
Switch the black sweatpants out for a pair of black dress slacks and that’s how I went. As I said, I did not care. I made it through the day without any major incidences..at least nothing some pretzels couldn’t cure. Now, my biggest issue is dinner..what’s for it? When my stomach’s upset it kind of runs my life. I have to do what it tells me to and right now, I think it’s telling me to eat ice cream. Nothing else seems appealing and I wish I could just go without food but then the pain gets worse. After all, it is MY stomach we’re talking about. Don’t matter how cruddy it feels, it still wants food. I guess poor darling hubby is on his own for dinner because I doubt he’ll want to trade off real food for a cup of chocolate chip cookie dough.
Now, since this whole experience has been shitastic to say the least let’s talk about how stupid ol’ Jessica can avoid this next time. For starters, the rum was my first mistake. What’s that rhyme..beer before liquor, never been sicker? Yea..why wasn’t that rhyme playing over and over in my head when I STARTED drinking?? I need to follow the rules of drinking more precisely..Also, I need to stop drinking like it’s a friggin race. I pounded those last 4 drinks like someone was gonna steal them from me. That’s probably why I didn’t feel it immediately. The poor rum didn’t have enough time to even get into my system. It’s just a suspicion of mine but I also think my tolerance is getting lower. Any time I’ve drank any more than a drink or two lately I’ve woken up the next morning feeling a bit off. That was never the norm but this is going to have to stay a suspicion for now because I’m not willing to run any tests on how much alcohol I can handle. I’m gonna stay away from drinking for a little while..besides maybe a mid-week glass of wine my next serious drinking session will probably be with a few daiquiris on the beaches of St. Thomas. But then again, I always say that..we’ll just have to wait and see
