Getting wasted has some pretty nasty consequences, as everybody that ever survived one knows. Here's how to stay in control of your hangover.
Painful memories are surfacing slowly throughout the day.
The problem: Usually you don't feel ashamed that easily, but now that the alcohol is slowly leaving your body through your moist armpits, you're starting to realise embarrassing things about last night. Did you really tell that cute, black DJ he reminded you of Will Smith? Even though he wore thick glasses, had long dreads and was pretty chubby? And did you keep insisting (loudly) that you are in no way a racist while he shook his head and averted his gaze? Yes. This actually happened.
The solution: You need to take care of the nasty brain cells that contain these unpleasant memories. And by take care, we mean kill. This can be done by shouting into a pillow, by smoking some premium weed or by opening a can of cheap beer at 10:30 in the morning.
Where is my money? I had 70 euros on me, right? Right?!
The problem: You indeed had 70 euros on you, and you're absolutely sure of this, because you can still remember exactly what you were hollering at your friend while standing in front of the atm. (It was something along the lines of "Why are these damn things still so fucking slow, it's 2016?") What happened afterwards with your 70 euros, no one knows. Although the 50 euros of nasal pleasure tucked in a tiny little envelope that is still sticking out from your bra might hold some clues as to what you did with your cash.
The solution: Accept your loss. Stare out your window, take a deep breath and accept the fact that you will eat nothing but cheap ramen noodles all week.
People insist on talking to you while they really shouldn't be talking to you.
The problem: Several people are just dying to talk to you today. You're out there, laying on the couch, minding your own business. You even placed a little container of Advil and your folded funeral hands on your chest, as a warning. But still, there's always that one guy (or parent, or child) that feels the need to spark a conversation with you.
The solution: Look, this is exactly why they invented the whole earplug-sleeping mask combo. Fill up those ears and cover your eyeballs with that free set you got while flying to Cabo last summer and withdraw yourself from this hellhole called earth. Whenever people are unable to make eye contact with you, they'll soon give up. Add that to the fact that you can't even hear them trying anymore and you're in heaven.
You will be tagged in truly horrific pictures.
The problem: 'You've been tagged in 8 photos in a Facebook photo album called 'TechFestHopDance 2016', or so a push-up message on your phone says. Immediately you open your Facebook app. It takes a looong time to load because the wifi is shitty in your bedroom. But when the photos are finally loaded, you're staring at yourself. It's you, accompanied by 8 different types of junkieface. You knew something was off when that party photographer kept flocking around you like a hungry vulture.
The solution: Immediately untag yourself and make sure to send an extremely threatening email to the photographer, who's probably 21 years old and will shit his pants when he sees an email subject like 'Hey listen up, assface'.
Your cupboards are empty but a trip to the supermarket just isn't an option
The problem: Your kitchen cabinets are emptier than when you moved in. You even ate the whole jar of cinnamon that the previous occupant left behind. The only thing that's left in your kitchen is a teabag you could gnaw on, but right now your body is gasping for nutrients.
The solution: Order in. What difference does it make that you'll feel like a filthy pig after eating all that fattening stuff, if you've felt good during the 10 minutes of binging? Or: [advertising voice] Choose Jimmy Joy! It contains all the nutrients you need to destroy your hangover.
Every little impulse you get irritates the fuck out of you.
The problem: Right now, you are allergic to absolutely everything. Microwave beeps? Shut your loud face, fucktard! Someone sends 14 WhatsApp-messages to you while you're quietly scrolling through your Instagram feed? Why won't anybody leave me alone! Your cat meows? DIE, YOU FURRY SHITMACHINE.
The solution: Okay, you really need to grab a chair, sit down and calm yourself the fuck down. And then begin hiding your phone, microwave and cat in the cupboard for the rest of the day.
Everything is taking sooooo damnnnn long.
The problem: Thanks to your tormenting, demonic hangover you're about as slow as your grandma without her artificial leg. When you just got up to put on your loungepants it was 1.15. When you finally managed to fully put them on, the clock said 2.30. What the fuck is going on here?
The solution: Stay completely still. Don't move. Physical movement is futile. Perhaps invest in adult diapers. There's no way you'll be able to reach the toilet on time today. Just chill, don't move, accept your faith and pray for a new day to come.
Your friends on social media annoy you even more than usual.
The problem: Usually you can effortlessly scroll past a boring picture of a normal cup of coffee with the words 'love life!' written underneath it, but your hangover gives you the dark energy to get extra irritated. Why does this boring excuse for a photo have 42 likes? I didn't even get 42 likes on that picture where I'm in the fucking Gobi desert on a fucking camel. Why am I so unpopular? Why do people hate me? Am I unkind? Should I be nicer?
The solution: Avoid all social media and download all Alien movies ever made.