by Ransom Noble

Created on: January 14, 2009

That fun evening out with friends too often ends with the dreaded hangover. Sure, there are those who, after a long night, manage to remember to stay up another hour while taking two aspirin and drinking a good bit of water. Far too many of us give in to our alcohol-induced exhaustion and blissfully fall asleep too early.

Morning finds us struggling to remember our names as the sun pours blinding light across our eyes. When we manage an upright stance the world feels tilted. Sounds are oddly amplified to add to the excruciating pain of the sun's dreadful rays. At this point, ready or not, fuzzy memories begin to return of the previous evening's antics.

If our memories remain kind enough to not return, we can always count on our friends to remind us of our dancing skills and other miraculous feats of drunkenness. That designated driver tag becomes an envied position when taunted mercilessly about forgotten escapades, though several episodes occur before a change in behavior becomes seriously considered.

Food and beverages give hope of redemption until the unsavory odors reach the nostrils. The only reason we didn't bolt on sight is because our eyes are still closed to block out the glare. While some manage to force sustenance down in the hope of settling the abdominal region, others forget the entire thing and head back to bed despite the dehydration. At our most unfortunate we have an engagement we can't postpone like work or travel plans.

Generally hangovers treat the one who had the most fun with the worst hangover, but sometimes those special cases get in the way. That guy who doesn't get them always rouses our well-deserved ire. Shouldn't he suffer with the rest of us? Yet his appetite is ravenous, and he makes more noise than a classroom of kindergartners. Calling him on it does no good, he laughs harder and louder. The unfairness of the entire thing, like how he drank two to each one anyone else had, grates on everyone. Even the stories can't level the scales, he might not remember any better than we do, but we can't talk loud enough to make ourselves heard without our eardrums exploding. By the time we've recovered, too much time has passed to make the retelling worthwhile.

Time heals all until the next outing, by which time we've forgotten the pain of recovery. Go out and live it up while we can, for tomorrow brings pain, suffering, and possible regrets.

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