So apparently hangovers get worse as you get older. My colleague recently told me that I have nothing to complain about now, and that 28 is when things start getting really bad. If this is true, then I have four good years left. According to the Huffington Post she could be right.
At uni I used to regularly be able to go out three times a week and feel absolutely fine. I remember a few, quite spectacular hangovers, but they were fairly quick and could be ended by a trip to somewhere really unhealthy and a bottle of orange Lucozade. These days, this seems less like the case.
So this is part one of my hangover diary between now and Christmas. Since the festive period brings quite a lot of festive drinking, this seemed like the perfect time to work out if my hangovers really are getting worse.
Event: Friend’s 25th birthday
Venue: Adventure Bar, Clapham, London
Night plan: Pre-drinks at home, Adventure Bar from 9, then whatever happens when it shuts at 2.
Biblical rain saw five of my friends arrive at my flat in varying states of damp and pissed off. One wonderful friend arrived with a very special treat: Russian Standard vodka infused with Drumstick lollies and Squashies. Needless to say, this was sensational. The best confectionary vodka I have tasted to date and much nicer than the classic and over-done skittles. One shot of this, two vodka oranges and one vodka lemonade.
After a disastrous cab journey in which the cab driver called me babe at least 37 times and then refused to cut the price despite being late and sending the wrong cars, Adventure Bar happened. One cocktail, one tequila, two weird beers and apparently some sort of whiskey. I have drunk more, I have drunk less. But that’s a fair amount of mixing. Not sensible.
Food: 3am Dominos, A Mexican baguette the day after, more pizza, three satsumas and litres of orange squash.
The hangover: Awful. Lots of regret. It’s been a while and it may be a while again after this one. Woke up still quite drunk with a friend on a blow up bed next to me, phoned my housemate who was downstairs, tried to hum the Coronation Street theme tune at each other before she came up with another friend who didn’t make It home. We proceeded to lay for about four hours, watched endless You’ve Been Framed, napped, laughed at nothing and generally felt vile. I think I said I was never drinking again at least four times. Also still struggling to deal with how much You’ve Been Framed we watched in one day.
Duration: 2 days. Monday wasn’t fun. I ate everything. The second day was also very tired and very grumpy.