Yesterday was quite possibly the greatest blogging day I have ever had, which I realize sounds pretty freaking lame if you're not a blogger but whatever. Let's roll with it because, let me tell you, 160 comments, 5,100+ pageviews, and countless supportive texts, emails, and tweets is exciting as mother effing hell. Not to mention, that boyfriend (woah, weird word alert.) guy I was writing about read the post and really, really loved it, which pretty much blew my mind because I am so used to stuffing this blog under the rug and 110% denying it to the real world. Crazy.
If you're new here, let me just go ahead and fill you in on a little something. When I have a really, really good day, I like to celebrate. And by celebrate I mean guzzle down about 5 shots of Fireball and a few pitchers of Miller Lite. Quite honestly, I had no intention of going that hard last night, but I guess with all of the excitement surrounding me that changed real fast. Insert nonexistent hungover emoji here.
Hangover aside, we had a blast last night. Blog, say hi to my bear. Hi bear. Clearly, I am miserable.
So, today I've been painfully wandering my hungover ass around the office trying to figure out how to get over the hangover and after a little chat with Sarah about what I should blog about I decided to take her idea and spin it around a little bit.
Allow me to introduce you to the hangover "remedies" that are about as useful as trying to buy a bottle of wine with pesos in America (Very unsuccessful, for the record.)
The last thing I wanted to do when I woke up this morning was eat, let alone shovel a McD's sausage muff in my beer catcher, but I did it and then I regretted it worse than the time I left a vodka soda on my nightstand and woke up in the middle of the night thinking it was water. (#vomit) As if my protruding belly full of beer and Fireball remnants wasn't uncomfortable on it's own, adding in some grade D greasy sausage really topped me off and prepped me for the nap I didn't get to take. Horrible, just no.
I set my Keurig to brew me a fresh cup of Joe while I was walking the fluff monsters this morning. When I walked back into my apartment I nearly lost my cookies all over two little white dogs because the smell of the coffee was so horrid. That was about as far as I got with the coffee trial, the full mug has been chillen in my fridge all day. On the positive side, I have iced coffee for tomorrow morning so, there's that.
Gatorade and water.
I've flooded my insides with more of these two things today than I flooded them with le booze last night and let me tell you something, I still feel like shit. I'm so over Gatorade right now, I think I'd rather go thirsty than take another sip of it. It's not you, it's me, Red G-rade.
Ok, I don't think my 4 block walk to lunch really counts as exercise but that walk was rough and, if anything, it made me hurt worse. It's hot outside, so #beersweat was in full force, all of the water and Gatorade I consumed was sloshing around in my hungover belly, and basically I wanted to hop on the back of the Jimmy John guy's bike and have him take me straight home so I could nap. Just say no to hungover exercising.
The thing I intend on doing lots of as soon as I get home from work and I just can't even contain my excitement to see that bed of mine when I walk into my bedroom. While I sure would have loved to sleep in a bit later this morning, I can guaran-damn-tee you it wouldn't have made any difference unless I could have laid in bed the entire day. Which, lezbirealhonest, just isn't a possibility on a rando Thursday.
You know what wouldn't have been a remedy fail?
A mimosa. Hair of the dog works every time.
Well, it does until you wake up the next day in more pain than you were initially in and then you have to restart this process all over again. Exhausting, really.
I will now go stare blankly into space, willing the clock to move it's little ass along, and prepare for the greatest nap my world has ever known.