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Ah, Mondays. You’re back to the real world after two days of trying to relive your college glory days and pushing your tolerance to levels it hasn’t seen since you were 20. You’re struggling so hard that you’re questioning things, like “Is this it?” and “Is Jesus coming?” Was it that shot of pure grain alcohol that did the trick? Even freshman year you knew better than that. Was it whatever that white pill your friend gave you that’ll “help your hangover” really less Motrin and more molly? You’re not sure. You’re not even sure you have a pulse at this point. And you’re definitely not sure why, if you have gone to the beyond, you’re still at fucking work (read: you’re in Hell).
- Upon waking, you hit snooze five times and spend most of the short amount of time you have left to get ready in bed heavily contemplating using that sick day you’re saving up.
- You eat a popsicle for breakfast because A) you’re so dehydrated that it is currently considered the breakfast of champions and B) you’re still on the fence about what your stomach could actually handle right now.
- You go into work knowing there’s never been a drug test, but praying they don’t start today.
- You have to choose your music wisely in order (to attempt to) vomit prevention in your car. I mainly base it on the following criteria: if it’s got enough bass to shake up my insides, it’s out; if it talks about drinking, drugs, the club, hangovers, etc., it’s out. It’s a sad day for rap music.
- You’ve already planned numerous trips to the bathroom around meetings so you have ample time to subsequently decide if this is going to be the trip where you vomit.
- Everyone on the way to work is one brake check away from making you clean vomit out of your car.
- You haven’t even looked at alcohol since the early morning hours of Sunday and you’re still thinking about vomiting.
- It’s 90 degrees outside but you’re dressed for winter to hide the large, definite bruises on your body that you have not even the slightest clue of where they came from.
- According to WebMD, it’s your liver that’s killing you right now, which makes perfect sense to you.
- You haven’t stomached food since yesterday and can’t wait for lunch so you can go home and take a nap.
- By some evil sorcery, it’s still not the PM hours yet.
- Realizing you still have an entire afternoon left at work makes you want to throw yourself back in front of the same bus that’s been hitting you all weekend and hoping that maybe this time will count.
- You had to hide your phone from yourself because friends sending you pictures of places you lost what was left of your dignity is too much for what’s left of your brain cells to handle.
- You’re hoping nobody notices the 20-packs of Advil you’re jacking in an attempt to self-medicate and reports you to HR.
- You haven’t even said your first words at work today.
Sign #1 – Using the term “Went too hard in the paint.”
Nothing better for a hangover in summer than a Pedialyte freezer pops!
Go Hard in the paint… nice