As hard as it is to believe now, when I was young I loved a hangover. I suppose we’re all less hard on ourselves when we’re young and we have fewer problems with ourselves.
o back then you could really let yourself go and take a day off from reality. It was an excuse to spoil yourself. You could still be slightly drunk for the early part of the day, and if it got too rough as the day progressed, you could always stave it off with another small drink.
Student life was particularly well designed for hangovers. There were usually other hungover people around for starters, which always helped.
Watch the lunchtime screening of Neighbors Being in a semi-zonked-out state may seem like a failure of some sort in your own life, but when others are doing it to you, some of whom may even be slightly stoned, on top of their hangover, you may not even feel like the most degenerate person in the room.
But if you were still in the same position as tea time is being paraded Neighbors came, you could start thinking about your life choices. When you’re younger, your stomach also handles hangover staples like milk and ibuprofen a little better.
It probably took me a little too long to realize that hangovers get a little more hellish with age. There’s an element of inventory involved, and taking a day off from life isn’t that easy.
A crucial element of a good hangover is not having responsibilities, not hanging over yourself, which is something you should be doing, and that becomes less and less the case as you get older.
I was probably a bit out of touch as a young freelance journalist, since I could usually rattle off a piece during a hangover as long as I had a bottle of Jolt double caffeine Coke.
For a time a few of us lived in and around Ringsend in various states of semi-employment and one of us had a coffee maker before people had coffee makers. So we’d recreate a student existence by hanging out at his coffee crack den on hangover days.
Eventually you learn to avoid hangovers. They don’t mix with kids, and they don’t mix with having things to do. These days the best I can muster is a bit of shabbiness that a cold swim or run will take care of.
You might be working at 90 percent one day, but you’re still working and keeping the indulgences of any kind of hangover at bay.
Can’t say I’ve wanted to get any more from a hangover lately. It was completely random and unplanned, but I feel like part of my subconscious did it on purpose to encourage me to quit, if only for half a day.
I haven’t slept well on weekends since I started working in radio, so I’m usually exhausted on Sunday afternoons, but this Sunday I was particularly tired. I had a few more drinks than I intended and woke up on Monday with what can only be described as a minor hangover.
It’s probably a credit to the sane life I lead now that it took me a few minutes upon waking to identify the problem. The nice thing about it being a Monday was that I had about six hours or so once the kids were gone.
You wouldn’t see my shame. They’re old enough now to be able to tell, and I find that the young people really have very little tolerance for us older people and our drink. To be honest, I think they find it strange.
I had a lot to do, but I agreed with myself that I would do a condensed day’s work that evening. In the meantime, I would just take the break. I stayed in bed drifting from reading the newspapers online into random internet rabbit holes.
Don’t ask me how, but one of the things I ended up doing was a thorough examination of the menus at all of Rick Stein’s various establishments in Padstow. I was reading about winter swimming in Brighton and ended up using Google Satellite View for a tour around an obscure Greek island someone had mentioned to me.
After swimming to clear my head, I decided to eat breakfast all day. Three of us got stupid and laughed at stupid stuff that I couldn’t repeat here. But as I clung to the action with one last coffee, reality called.
The kids would be back soon and I would have to be grown up again. I cleared my conscience by cramming a day’s work into four hours, which helped ward off the creeping goblins.
And finally I fell into a restless sleep, ready to reenter the world properly the next day, but oddly rejuvenated by my little day off.
https://www.independent.ie/opinion/brendan-oconnor-sometimes-a-hangover-is-just-what-you-need-42047943.html Brendan O’Connor: Sometimes a hangover is just what you need