Science Determines 29-Year-Olds Have The Worst Hangovers. #PGP


It’s not shocking news that after college hangovers become infinitely worse. Hangovers may, perhaps, be the greatest postgrad problem of all. Well, after poverty, anxiety, pregnancy, loneliness, and not having a Chipotle within five minutes of your home. God, that would be hell. Still, the revelation that hangovers reach their worst at 29 years of age is pretty disheartening.

From Metro:

…if you’re on the cusp of your 30s the comedown will last ten hours and 24 minutes – nearly an hour longer than the average.

The average is said to last nine hours and 45 minutes, with the discomfort reaching its peak at 9:45am the morning after.

If I weren’t so pale, and already hungover right now, you would be able to tell that all the blood just drained from my face at that horrible finding. I’m not yet 29, so to think that my hangovers can somehow get worse is a wholly terrifying prospect. Just last weekend, I spent Saturday sleeping off a hangover. I slept until 2pm, barely pulled myself out of bed, practically crawled to, you guessed it, Chipotle, then dragged my now fuller and more miserable body back home, and then slept until 9pm. After that, I woke up, went out, and repeated the process on Sunday, except that day I ate Vert’s (love Kebap).

And all of that speaks nothing of work hangovers. Throughout my life I’ve probably spent a cumulative three weeks sitting and/or napping in a workplace bathroom, wishing for death. I have used a toilet paper roll as a pillow more times than I care to admit. How can it get any worse? Now I’m sort of afraid that in a couple years I’m going to show up to work so hungover that I somehow accidentally drown in the toilet during one of my bathroom hangover naps. I can’t say my parents would be surprised. I always knew my funeral would have a lot more baffled head shaking than grieving tears.

As if my 29th birthday wasn’t going to be depressing enough. It’s pretty much a guarantee I’ll be single (definitely in the eyes of the IRS) and unless you start telling A LOT of your friends about this website I probably won’t be in the SFC either. That’s the six figure club, I’m totally a pending member. On the wait list for sure.

There is some good news from this study, though.

The research also found one in ten people posted something on Facebook they regretted the morning after…

That percentage HAS to be better than back in college, right? Though to be honest, even this kind of sucks. I’d much rather wake up to a Facebook timeline full of drunken, misspelled ramblings, both emotional and humorous, than a bunch of pictures of people finishing whichever 5k or half-marathon took place that day. Sweet, you ran for a little while. Did you win? No? You came in 1,345th? Yeah, then no one cares. Especially not me, because I’m hungover and want some Goddamn Chipotle.

[via Metro]


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Rob Fox

Rob Fox is a Senior Writer for Total Frat Move (as Bacon), Rowdy Gentleman, and Post Grad Problems. He is a graduate, without honors, from the University of Missouri. From St. Louis originally, he currently lives in Austin, Texas, and still has not admitted to his family what he does for a living. He is also prone to having wet nightmares ever since losing his virginity in a haunted house. Email:

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