Still Alive After All This Time

You guys, I drank all the champagne. I drank all the rosé. I drank all the apple cider toddies and I ate all the snacks, the pork, and the bread. I argued all the Scattergories. I’ve been thankful for all of my friends. I’ve taken so many weird naps and slept so late that I no longer know what a normal sleep schedule means. It’s been a loud, drunken Christmas and a quiet, recovering Boxing Day, and I don’t know what scientific miracle is afoot, but I’m not actually hungover and it scares me a little. At about 4:30am this morning, I watched the umpteenth bottle of champagne being popped and thought “this is going to hurt tomorrow.” And then I went to bed sometime around 6am, woke up at 10:30am, and have been waiting ever since for what I call my Adult Hangover, which is basically a low-grade queasiness paired with persistent anxiety underscored by a headache and the inability to sleep or imagine eating anything.

But today? Graham and I took the bus home from the hotel. We then walked to breakfast. Walked back home. I started reading Courtney’s (amazingly thoughtful, oh christ I love it so much) gift of the first two Sandman books, then I vacuumed, then I took a short nap, and then I woke up and started dicking around on the Internet (and saw this, which is another gift in itself):


But no hangover. Still. I mean, I did all the important things like hydrate, dose myself with some caffeine, and maintain that I am definitely not drinking today. It still feels like an event, though, and I’d like to share this non-hangover with as many people as possible.

I’m still not wearing real pants. My dinner is some decidedly un-decadent broccoli and leftover roast chicken. I washed my face earlier and that felt like I was trying a little too hard, so I think I’m just going to continue sitting around and wondering why on earth anyone still celebrates Boxing Day, and what it even is in the first place.*


*I know what it is. It’s just kind of silly and tell me, what American doesn’t fantasize that it’s about breaking out the kumite list and just rocking sonsofbitches in the face?

About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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