We’ve all been there. You head out with your squad on a Friday evening for a couple of sociable bevvies, only to wake up bleary-eyed two days later in some random house with a banging head and a mouth that tastes like Gandhi’s flip flop.
How many of these have you asked yourself?
1. Where’s my phone?
If it’s not lost in oblivion, your mobile is probably dead or in some one else’s pocket. Either way, the inevitable morning phone search is a drama that is just too daunting in such a fragile state.
On the plus side, this means you can avoid seeing most of the photo evidence of your debauched antics. For now.
Why am I here? Where do I see myself in ten years? Should I get life insurance?
Your mind is rattling with endless questions about your existence and suddenly, in the cold light of day, you feel a a familiar despondency that urges you to get your act together.
Obviously you won’t have the energy to do anything about it, so instead you just lie there pondering life with a vacant expression.
3. Why’s that guy still playing techno?
There’s always one. It’s 8am at a house party, everyone’s depression has set in and there’s a guy desperately clinging to the memory of the night before.
This means you’ll have to listen to his obscure techno mix on repeat while your brain swells inside your skull. Fight the urge to throttle him.
Waking up in unfamiliar surroundings is always unsettling, even more so when the place stinks of stale smoke and Buckfast.
You’ve also probably accumulated four new best friends over the course of the night so expect about ten new Facebook friend requests tomorrow.
In these situations it’s always best to work as a team. Who lives there? Are they capable of making coffee? Do they have a backup stash of drink? Stay positive.
5. Why does everything hurt?
Most likely because you were dancing like an imbecile, yelling obscenities at your mates and generally being mawwd.
From your face to your back to the weird bruises on your legs, you’ll probably be in some sort of pain after a weekend bender. The origin of these battle scars might be a mystery but they are a nice reminder of your shenanigans.
Probably. But the good news is so did every one else, plus your phone has gone AWOL so you don’t have to worry about facing reality just yet.
At this point The Fear will have set in and if you have to do the horrifying Walk of Shame home, then you’ll feel like ever member of the public is silently judging you.
7. Am I too old for this?
Anyone who has done their fair share of partying has asked themselves this at some stage. When is enough, enough? How long before my liver implodes?
These musings will no doubt follow previous existential questions and you’ll swear a solemn oath to yourself that you’re never going out again.
This is an important decision if you’ve ended up stranded on the other side of town. Given the grimness of your surroundings, you just want your own bed where you can lie like a victim and feel sorry for yourself.
However, getting a taxi (or worse, a BUS) home involves an anxiety-inducing amount of effort. Not to mention the harsh light of day will make your hangover a million times more intense.
It’s a tough one.
9. Is it acceptable to start drinking again?
If the Walk of Shame is too awful to consider, it’s only natural that you’ll want to numb your emotions with more alcohol. The thing is, it’s 9am and you’re not quite sure how acceptable it is to be drinking vodka for breakfast.
On the other hand, at this point you’ve lost so much of your dignity that you probably don’t really care.
You bought 40 fegs last night but ended up smoking them like they were going out of fashion, and also dished out half a pack to your mates and/or random strangers.
Why is there never one left come morning? It’ll probably make you boke anyway. Time to scrape the remnants of tobacco off the table and get creative with a rolling paper while cursing yourself for not planning ahead.