It’s not often I wake feeling hungover. I don’t like it and I avoid making it happen. Bukowski reckoned it wasn’t easy to become an alcoholic, a real alcoholic, someone who woke, hungover, three hundred days a year. He said it took determination.
I can’t be doing that.
But, yeah, this morning, I’m hungover from multiple Gin & Tonics. I want through a phase in the mid-late 90s where I was hungover every day for two years, bar five days when I had the flu. I was doing my masters in American literature and working full-time in an office, and it was a bit stressful. I took up kick-boxing too, and the combination of battering/getting battered, followed by a litre of cheap cider mixed with white wine generally got me to sleep after a day of work and studying. But I gave up the drink immediately I handed in my dissertation, and the kick-boxing not long after that. Since then I’ve tried to stay away from getting drunk.
But this morning I’m feeling like the very definition of stupid.