OK, so this is the thread where you share your hungover tales of woe...or suggest antidotes for the sore and sorry for themselves.
So....my sorry tale goes like this. (Please read with pity as it will take a fucking long time to write, as I correct my spelling errors due to my fragile posting state
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NOTE: It's a long and sad tale....feel free to read in those excessively bored moments, or skip through it and post your remedies!
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So, the consequences of a night of drinks with old workmates that were shouted for me. First mistake. Letting others control your alcohol intake!
Hungover...I stayed in my bed until just after midday today...soothing my ills with iced water and air conditioning. Then I decide I have to eat or I will die, but I can't drive to the shops because there would still be alcohol in my system. So I have to walk.
Why do you always crave the food you don't have in your house when you are hungover? Ugggh. Sooo, I'm craving tomato soup, right. This is important to note as the story unfolds. (Don't ask me why tomato soup, I've never craved it before with a hangover, so who knows - there's no logic to this fragile state!)
So, I start walking, it starts pissing down rain, but thankfully my hair is in a bun and I really don't care I feel so awful anyway.
I get to the supermarket, pity me, as it's a Saturday here and fucking packed with people. Not good when you're fragile...Ugggh.
Soup section. Tomato, tomato....mmm, chicken and corn? Mmm...pea and ham? What do I want...mmm, sicky, sicky feeling. Get all three.
Awww....do I feel like tomatoes on toast? Mmm, mmm....tomatoes in basket....or do I want vegemite toast? Vegemite in basket. Should I get noodles, just in case....noodles in basket. Around this moment, I feel like jelly....but when heading to jelly cups in the refrigerator section, I go past pasta....mmm, should I get pasta for dinner? That would be nice and comforting...at that moment, imagining whether I could eat pasta, I suddenly get a huge wave of nausea...so much so I fear I could vomit right there and then in the grocery store. (And I'm NOT a vomiter, I have an aversion to it and suppress it)
Telling myself that if I do spew, I will just apologise and say I am pregnant (I know, not cool, but I am so fucking fragile, I don't care). The feeling of being hungover IS decidedly like what morning sickness is like too BTW.
I manage to get through the checkout, nausea wave has now gone back to the general sicky sicky get me the fuck away from here feeling.
I pass the fruit and veg shop. Grapes, green and purple....
Then I have to get white bread, because I can't stand the thought of eating my regular wholemeal seedy rye stuff or whatever it is for my tomatoes on toast.
OK, heading home...pass the food court. I hate the food court, any food court really.
Yeah well, here the fuck I am, half eaten pizza sub from Subway. When my initial trip was for tomato soup.
The pathetic tale of a hungover soul. This won't end until probably later tonight...this yucky sicky feeling. Blaaaah.