I’ve only been 34 years old for a few days, but I’ve already learned something pretty important.
Wanna know what it is!? I’ll tell ya…
It officially takes me 36 hours to get over a hangover.
Yep. I’m totally and completely NOT young in that respect anymore.
Saturday night was the official birthday celebration. We started off at the gun range where I got to have a little target practice and purchase my first gun! She came in a blue box so obviously I named her Tiffany. We headed to a local Mexican restaurant where we met up with some friends, ate some great food, and, like the proverbial cheese, I stood alone…drinking.
Everyone assured me they would drink when we hit the bar which was our next stop after dinner. I had a few drinks at the bar, danced a little
with no rhythm whatsoever, and laughed with the amazing group of people who showed up. But, every time I turned around someone was refilling my drink or buying me a shot. I was working on drinking any random glass of water I could find on the table knowing full well the wonders of hydration.
Sadly, it didn’t help.
By the time we left I was feeling pretty tipsy which is always a strange feeling since I only drink once in a blue moon. As Hubby drove me home I ended up pulling some major stomach pyrotechnics (so glad those shoes were cheap!) and crashed immediately upon getting home…only to wake up at 6:30 am feeling like crap.
I spent the day vegging on the couch, eating scrambled eggs, and hydrating my ass off. It didn’t really help. I slept when I could and slowly but surely realized that my 34-year-old ass was not meant to recover quickly. I went to be early that night hoping Monday would surprise me with some “feel better” feelings. It didn’t.
It’s now Monday night and I’m finally feeling back to normal. No headache, no exhaustion, no nausea. It’s been a loooooong 36 hours.
But, damn was it fun!!!
Next time I just need to remember that Sex on the Beach shots are a very bad idea…no matter if they are the half priced shot of the day.