33 Ways To Get Through A Hangover
1. Tell your roommates, friends, significant others, that you, believe it or not, consumed alcohol last night. Stress the part where you tell them that you consumed alcohol.
2. Lie in your bed groaning for 5-7 minutes. Groan as much as possible. Some long, some short. Aspire to be the Floyd Mayweather of groanage.
3. Sit on the toilet for 31-37 minutes. Scroll through your twitter feed. Relive that daydream where you run into Michael Cera while snowboarding, and then eventually become pretty good friends.
4. Sit on the couch for 8-12 minutes. Around the 9 minute mark, completely forget that you’ve been sitting on the couch for the past 9 minutes.
5. Open up your laptop. Briefly contemplate suicide upon realizing that it’s now running on reserve battery power. Give up, even though the charger is only on the other side of the room.
6. Turn on the TV, flip through the channels, and wonder aloud why MTV is so into exclusively airing reruns of Ridiculousness on the weekends.
7. Settle for some channel highlighting the skills of a sorta celebrity, like Phil Keoghan of The Amazing Race.
8. Spend a good 27 minutes trapped in the inescapable quicksand that innocently begins on Phil Keoghan’s Wikipedia page, but ends on an important court case involving sign language.
9. Hate click some sort of article that you know you’re not even gonna read despite clicking on it. Hopefully, it’s this article.
10. Suddenly get incredibly hungry. Wonder if it’s worth getting that laptop charger, or if this is your time to be Taken by the Powers That Be.
11. Spend 8-9 more minutes mulling over this decision, with the hope that one of your roommates will enter the room and be the answer that the Lord giveth. After all, it is Sunday.
12. Muster up the courage to make the Lewis & Clark-esque trek to the other side of the room. Retrieve the charger. Return a bit haggard, but ultimately still in one piece.
13. SEAMLESS it up. Tweet about how much you like seamless. Pat yourself on the back for being so groundbreakingly original.
14. Between the time of order and delivery, get incredibly full. Gotta love a hangover stomach.
15. Receive a flirty text. It’s like a really good flirty text. Hits all the proper beats and everything. It’s too intimidating, and you’ll have to respond later.
16. Get judged hard by the seamless delivery guy. Wonder whether or not this is a new high or new low. After being hit with the pungent smell of the General Tso’s lunch combination, vomit in your mouth.
17. Upon stowing the Tso’s in the fridge tell yourself that this time around, there’s no bullshitting; you’re never drinking again. Or at the very least, no more vodka.
18. Decide that the only way to get over this is to sweat it out, gym style. Chug some water to prepare. Be too lazy to get ice. Be pissed that it’s not really that cold.
19. Arrive at the gym. Avoid anyone that might try and strike up a conversation–you know it’s gonna get slightly awkward after the initial “hey, how are you,” and at the moment, there’s no need for existential crises regarding the tragedies of human interaction.
20. Realize that you don’t really know what you want to do here. Out of sheer fear of being caught standing around like a bumbling fool, opt for the bike.
21. Kinda dog it, but progressively get into your biking with each solid pick by Pandora. Get angry when they play bad songs. Wonder for the 130th time if you should just sack up and go for Spotify premium.
22. Literally feel the poison exiting your body. You’re not sure if this feels good or bad.
23. Walk home exhausted. Throat incredibly dry and headache still intact, but relatively upbeat. You’re living a moral victory; like the worst team in the league playing surprisingly well against the division leader, and actually giving them a run for their money.
24. General Tso’s time. That egg roll proves to make all the difference–the grease is exactly what you need.
25. As the sun decides to turn off the lights and stream HBO for the remainder of the night, the doubt begins to creep. Tomorrow is Monday, tomorrow is routine.
26. You wonder if you’re gonna be spending all your Sunday evenings like this. Probably.
27. Take a shower. Helplessly watch the water tumble into the drain, as if you’re some breakout actor in a movie that gets snubbed at the Oscars.
28. Oh shit. The flirty text. Is it too late?
29. Scramble, and call in your roommate who somehow hooks up with girls. His texting advice sounds kinda creepy. You don’t heed it, but you tell him that you did. Not that his ego needs more stroking, but he’s clearly the most likely to get divorced after five years.
30. Sit around, and mentally prepare to finally embark on that passion project. Map out a schedule for the week, to ensure that
you actually there’s a 32% chance make due on your promise.
31. Announce to your roommates that you’re going to sleep for the night. You’re happy that your apartment is an “announcing” apartment–as you’ve all discussed before, it builds some nice camaraderie.
32. She texts back, and hits all the beats again. She even makes a reference to how good the food is at the local sandwich place, something that you both mutually discussed in attempt to fill up conversational space last night. You wonder why everything is so obnoxiously predictable.
33. Lights out, and decide that you’ll probably never stop being hungover. Metaphorically.
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What happened in the case in Massachusetts and to tens of thousands of women around the country each year shouldn’t be labeled as upskirting — it’s sexual harassment.
An old friend of mine came to visit from the States; one of Karlyn’s Berlin buddies showed up and decided to stay for a month; an Austrian friend of Valentin’s crashed on our futon for a few weeks.
It’s Saturday morning and I wake up in my boyfriend’s bed, but he’s nowhere to be found.
I haven’t been to the gym in over four years, and I’ve never been fitter. I’m not one of those energetic people on constant fast-forward mode who surely must eat 10 WeetBix for breakfast.