… are not the ones where you’re completely sober or completely wasted; it’s the morning in between. If you’ve been drinking heavily but your morale and conscience tackled you at 2am before doing six consecutive shots of cheap tequila and funnelling a warm Guinness, you’ll truly suffer the next morning. Obviously if you’re sober, the only downside to your mornings would be the fact that you’re not lying on a beach and have to go to work. If you still hammered on the other hand, it doesn’t really matter what you have to do; you will choose to deny all obligations around you, pretend that it is a worry free Saturday and go back to sleep. That way you can wake up at 2pm, accept that you’re a moron who didn’t go to work and continue drinking before the hangovers kick in. But; if you stuck in between you will actually hear the alarm go off at 7am and start your daily routine, and that’s when you realize that everything in the world is entirely wrong, misplaced or uneatable. You need to manhandle your tongue with a lawnmower, your teeth looks like the stunt crew from Pirates of the Caribbean, everything in your body wants to escape the inappropriate way, your eyes looks like a bad Sci-Fi flick and your balance is so bend out of shape that the easiest way to scratch your balls is through your nose. There’s is no cure and you’re already up, so you’re pretty much fucked. Today is Friday and I am half way through the above described scenario; I hate my life!

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