Henceforth...

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Olden Days

A visit to the past can make all that booze make sense. You will indeed feel like pure hell the next morning. But, when you remember how hilarious 1989 was, argue about who said that awful thing to that girl at the mall that one time, french-kiss your best friend to prove it's been done before and remains ridiculous, wrestle and shove one another off the bed, spill something on someone and scurry to tidy up, smash something by accident and elbow someone by accident and fall on the floor by accident, and maybe one or even two of you need to take a break and barf...

...all these things colliding will nearly break your head, and many might nearly break your heart. But, the olden days before separation by geography, bad timing, schedules, offices, fights, reunions and years...as sentimental and slightly twee as it sounds, those days will make the next morning's sweats and the afternoon's nausea and the night's headache feel like a fair price to charge.

An Early Start

Sure, you could sleep the day away. Or, you could hustle yourself out of bed and into the morning, never mind that the skies are still dark and the air is still wet and everyone else is still snoring. The day is fresh and it smells really, really great. Maybe you don't (smell great, that is), but you're only going to grow staler the longer you stay stuffed between those sheets.

Get up get up get up! And, get on with things!

Fame

Somehow, when the liquor you consume is autographed by someone famous, sexy and amazing, the next day hurts a little less.

Sweat it Out

Ok, so let's say you had a house party. And, let's say it ran a bit late. So late, in fact, that by the time you turned in, it was early. And "early morning" was practically ebbing into brunchtime.

The tiles are sticky, bottles crowd the stairs, halved limes are glued to the toaster and there's something no one even wants to make eye contact with never mind talk about, going on just inside the pantry door.

You need to clean up, and fast, before your hangover gets punched in the kisser by the stink of spilled, then trod-through, then dried, then re-spilled-upon beer. Quick, grab the supplies: track pants, bandana to hold back your hair, and the CD from last night, the one your brother-in-law burned from his collection of '90s gay dance party anthems. No, he doesn't own an iPod.

Then, get moving. Dance it off while you scrape and mop. Only then, once the last trashbag hits the bin and the empties are out front on the sidewalk for the old Asian lady to collect when she makes her rounds for refundable bottles, only then do you deserve a nap. After all, you've no one to blame for your sketchy condition but yourself...and maybe your brother-in-law, for including that song by Cher.

Like an Accident, You Can't Look Away

Settle in for a long, grueling hangover with a tall glass of water, a handful of Advil, and the archives from Sex With Sue. If nothing else, laughing about lines like, "Well, she's likely going to pee all over your whole face--women have poor aim, you know," will make you forget your pain.

Scrambled Heart

If you toss in some heartbreak along with all that wine, you'll hardly notice the head ache, weighed against the pounding in your chest.

A Special Project

Knitting. Darning. Needlepoint. Fine carpentry. Bicycle mechanics. Canning and preserving something which, if you make a slip, will dish up a serving of botulism in March.

A special project that focuses your attention away from your hangover and trains all your energy upon the labour at hand.

Sweet Love

Sometimes, the best cure for a hangover is someone who cares enough to hold the hair out of your face while you barf. Sigh...so, so sweet.

S.O.S.

Sometimes, the hangover is too powerful to fight, like an undertow, a gale-force wind, a storm that bears an official ranking on meteorological charts. Under those conditions, your only choice is to place a call for help. Send out an S.O.S. to anyone within earshot, and cling to that smashed board or chunk of sinking ship. Kick your feet to stave off hypothermia, and hope the lifeboat reaches you before the sharks.