Sleep It Off

I guess I’m not 18 anymore. I use 18 rather than 21 because at 18 my hangovers were far less frequent and intense than they were by the time it was legal for me to have a hangover. I think maybe 21 is the drinking age because it it just when your body starts to slowly reject the idea of consuming too much on a regular basis. The morning after my 21st birthday was the day I realized that I had to make a choice; either A. Stop drinking copious amounts of alcohol when I go out, or B. Drink more alcohol all the time to work up a tolerance and thus avoid hangovers in the long run. Unfortunately my parents did some things right so I chose to drink less on party occasions. Now don’t take this to mean that I stopped drinking, I’m not a party-pooper, but I try no to just start consuming blindly until I have to be carried out, it’s just not a cute look for me. Sadly, the instance and severity of my hangovers is getting worse with age.

What used to be a carefree night on the town with friends is now a two day sentence to be bedridden and cranky. If I have anything more than one or two drinks I’m doomed to be ill the next day and it makes me a little sad that I wasn’t more committed years ago to building my tolerance, I really dropped the ball there.

If this trend continues down the path it is on now I will end up like my mother. Now I should mention that she is the cutest person ever, but damn is she a cheap date. She never ever drinks except once in a while at Passover when she’ll have  grape juice all night and then one sip of wine, or special occasions. She reacts to alcohol like the rest of us do, but somehow her body takes the stages of drunkenness and condenses them into about ten minutes.

Minute 1- She drinks the wine (usually about half a glass is all it takes).

We are well into minute 4 here... isn't she the best?

Minute 2- She starts to giggle and talk about feeling tipsy and how much fun the evening is.

Minute 3- She joyously admits that she is now fully drunk.

Minute 4- She becomes the life of the party, a good time is had by all.

Minute 5- We watch her start to slow down and her energy fades.

Minute 6- She mentions that she is feeling a little bit sick but still seems committed to enjoying the evening.

Minute 7- She is now ready for a post drinking nap but isn’t able to have one because dinner is still going on.

Minute 8- Due to not sleeping when her body needed it, she is now in full hangover mode — spins, nausea, exhaustion, etc.

Minute 9- She remembers why she never drinks and tells us it was only because she indulged too much and next time maybe we should give her a 1/4 glass.

Minute 10- She finds a place to nap and is out cold, reporting the next day that she got a little out of hand.

Little does she know, this is mine and my sisters favorite occasion, she just gets so happy and giddy in the few minutes that she is drunk and I have never seen anything more delightful. Yes, we poke fun at how quickly she heads south but I should note here that it is all in good spirit (Mom, if you are upset that I posted this I owe you extra hugs the next time I see you, and maybe a glass of wine).

At least with age I am also learning how to better manage my hangovers. I’m like an old fart, I try to get home early, take two ibuprofen, a multi vitamin and start in on chugging gatorade. Why is it that gatorade is delicious all the times except when it is needed post drinking, when it tastes like bad medicine and barf? Don’t even get me started on Revive Vitamin Water, that stuff works like a charm but since I only drink it when I’m hungover I now believe that it is the official taste of sick.

Wow, this is really the only time I wish I was 18 again.

3 thoughts on “Sleep It Off”

  1. I tried the building-up-the-stamina-thing when I was 19 — you see how well that worked. So don’t regret. When you’re doomed, you’re doomed. Anyway, water is cheaper and has fewer calories.

  2. Pedlialite! It is the way to go!

    The day after Jay’s highschool friends’ wedding I was so hungover I spent the two hour drive home with a plastic shopping bag in my lap for fear of car barf.

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